


Live like we're gonna die young

by Kamen_rider_Dimension



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Crimson Flower Route, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Friendship, I'm Bad At Tagging, Multiple Timelines, Romance, Silver Snow Route, Slice of Life, Violence, achronological, oneshots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:27:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 52,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23493193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kamen_rider_Dimension/pseuds/Kamen_rider_Dimension
Summary: Lysithea liked to believe she was set at Garreg Mach; she was a magical prodigy and her grades were near excellent. As soon as that strange man entered her life though, it was clear that her time at the Officer's Academy would never be so easy. A series of loosely connected one shots.
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Lysithea von Ordelia
Comments: 2
Kudos: 53





	1. Contents/timeline

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for Fanfiction.net in the latter half of 2019. A series of oneshots all focused on Lysithea and Byleth. Though connected in a loose timeline, tone and relationships may vary per oneshot.

#### Published chapters are achronological: Please use chapter index for oneshots organised by publish date

# Part 1: Whimsy of the White Clouds

  1. [A lesson to be learnt:](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23493193/chapters/56332171#workskin)  
In a class made out of the eccentric, their professor was usually the only source of normality. As Lysithea would quickly learn, that was not to be this year. But perhaps that's not such a bad thing... 
  2. [Rational Insanity:](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23493193/chapters/57681211)  
The memories weren't easily suppressed, but Lysithea managed well enough. Every now and then, however, the terrors of her past rampage within her mind. Such was the scene Byleth found himself walking into. 
  3. [Smashed shadows:](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23493193/chapters/56897260)  
There have been strange rumours and stranger figures lurking around Garreg Mach. Enlisted by his father, Byleth tries his best to root out the cause, only to find himself drawn into a conflict he never could've expected. 
  4. [Teaching the tutor:](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23493193/chapters/56558260)  
Lysithea has made an attempt to enter the world of tutoring, only to find her efforts fall flat. Who else can she turn to in her moment of need than one of the best teachers she knows? 
  5. [Beauty and the Byleth:](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23493193/chapters/56466058)  
There is a rumour that couples who make a vow at the Goddess Tower on a certain night will have their dreams come true. While she has no plans to make a vow, Lysithea does have an unplanned encounter. 
  6. [Do the cooking by the book](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23493193/chapters/56609419)  
Lysithea aimed to make a gift for one of her friends, only for things to appear far more difficult than expected. Of course, the staff know who to call. 
  7. [Deer today, gone tomorrow:](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23493193/chapters/56420923)  
The Golden Deer have gone mysteriously missing and it's down to Lysithea to find out the truth. Fortunately for her, she comes across Mercedes, who could be the help she needs.
  8. [The melody of Morfis:](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23493193/chapters/56993374)  
The world is far grander than the borders of Fodlan. For students who know of little beyond their territories, the earthly knowledge of their professor is like an endless source of fairytales. On a cold night, however, Byleth proves the anecdotes he tells have more than enough evidence to back them up.
  9. [Having a blast:](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23493193/chapters/56513725)  
In his free time, Byleth finds himself exploring new potential weapons and techniques too dangerous to involve the students with. It's only natural then that one of the most inquisitive would find herself embroiled in the situation. Well, perhaps it's better to say forced her way into it...
  10. [Qui vivra verra:](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23493193/chapters/61998019)  
Humanity has always thirsted for knowledge. Many times, however, such knowledge has come at a cost. Curiosity killed the cat and, as Lysithea would soon come to learn, many other people as well.
  11. [Divine protection:](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23493193/chapters/56374948)  
Lysithea cannot take the way Byleth seems to be babying her for no reason. Unfortunately for her, something seems to have convinced him that she's far too frail. 



# Part 2A: Vision of the Verdant Wind

  1. [Stuck in the past:](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23493193/chapters/56720143)  
After five years of war and conflict ruin the continent of Fodlan, the Church's last bastion of hope awakens once more. Returning to Garreg Mach, Byleth is forced to face the changes that occurred in his absence. 
  2. [Phantom Pains:](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23493193/chapters/72288405)  
While on the hunt for a prestigious songstress, Byleth finally finds himself utilising his divine powers to save himself rather than others. During the unorthodox experience, an unexpected ailment manages to catch the professor's attention.
  3. [A summoning sigh:](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23493193/chapters/56944129)  
Byleth dons the detective role when Marianne is suddenly found acting strange. Naturally, Lysithea takes the challenge of being the Professor's plucky assistant. It is quickly made apparent, however, that finding the truth is not as easy as it seems.
  4. [Master of Disguise:](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23493193/chapters/59062123)  
Byleth finds himself in charge of a mission that sends him deep into Kupala territory. The issue? The only way he's getting in is with a disguise. Fortunately, Hilda's here to help, and Lysithea's here to watch.
  5. [Sensei's secret:](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23493193/chapters/56944129)  
Lysithea thought it was just another one of the eccentric professor's famous tea parties. Little did she realise, she would learn more about what made Byleth so strange, a secret that has haunted his entire life...



# Part 2B: Campaign of the Crimson Flower

  1. [Violent ends:](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23493193/chapters/56659480)  
"But arise, what light through Gronder Field breaks? It is the east, and Lysithea is the sun! Arise, fair sun, and kill this envious moon." Two sides, both alike in dignity, in fair Gronder where we set our scene. From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. 
  2. [Violent delights:](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23493193/chapters/57089809)  
Parting is such sweet sorrow, one that Byleth didn't wish to feel. Now a dammed saint, an honourable villain, he approaches a holy shrine where his mother once lay. He will defy the stars. A DIRECT SEQUEL TO VIOLENT ENDS.




	2. A lesson to be learnt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a class made out of the eccentric, their professor was usually the only source of normality. As Lysithea would quickly learn, that was not to be this year. But perhaps that's not such a bad thing...

Lysithea sighed as she entered the Golden Deer classroom, met with the incredible noise of her classmates. While they certainly weren't bad people, the sheer amount of chaos they could cause was incredibly distracting for the white-haired girl.

She hadn't even made it through the door before the loud complaining of Hilda assaulted her ears, no doubt the result of the spoiled noble being forced to do actual work. It was fortunate that Claude was actually willing to at least humour the girl's complaints before finding some mysterious way to somewhat motivate her, otherwise they'd be forced to listen to the racket endlessly. How such a person even managed to make it into the Officer's Academy, Lysithea didn't know.

On the other side of the classroom, Raphael and Leonie were wrapped up in some sort of fight discussion, a relatively normal situation if it weren't for the fact that they were two of the most boisterous students in the class. Even then, it might have been an acceptable noise level had Lorenz not inserted himself into the conversation to try and show the common people some manners 'as a noble should.'

Then again, there was nothing Lysithea could do about the situation. After all, the Golden Deer were composed entirely of those who belonged to the Leicester Alliance and with House Ordelia territory just north of the Airmid River, it was automatically decided for her. At first, the white-haired girl hadn't seen an issue with it, but now that she was forced to try and concentrate with all of the chaos her classmates made? It sometimes drove Lysithea mad.

The only thought that consoled her was the fact that the other classes weren't exactly that much better, or at least, that was what was Lyisthea had assumed from what little interaction she had seen between the other houses. While she typically kept to herself during the breaks and mealtimes, the Black Eagles and Blue Lions certainly weren't lacking in… colourful characters. Making the hypothesis was simply logical.

Shaking her head in a fruitless attempt to block the noise, Lysithea moved to her desk, one that she had purposely chosen to be next to the quietest person she knew at all, let alone just in the classroom.

"Oh, Lysithea… hello…" Marianne hesitantly spoke before awkwardly returning to staring at the desk. Anyone else would've considered it quite rude, but having gotten to know the almost depressingly shy bluenette, Lysithea wasn't so affected.

"Hey, Marianne. How's Dorte?"

"He's been well. He's been getting more exercise."

Sometimes, Lyisthea couldn't help but pity Marianne. She wasn't entirely sure what had happened in her past, but it had practically murdered Marianne's self-confidence and she struggled to interact with anyone beyond a few short sentences. The fact that she was even able to speak that much with Lysithea, considering that she wasn't an animal, was something special.

Lysithea had originally stuck around Marianne (much to the quiet confusion and concern of Marianne) simply because she was the quietest and easiest to work around. Now though, it had evolved into quite the curious friendship as Lysithea tried to improve Marianne's confidence and learn more about her.

To be honest, Marianne was the only one that Lysithea really could call a proper friend. She was certainly acquainted with the other members of the Golden Deer, but there simply wasn't any sort of connection between them. They were classmates, but nothing more; their polar opposite personalities made sure of that.

"Settle down." An imposing voice brought silence to the classroom, a strange man marching to the front of the room with an expression better suited for the battlefield than an academy. "Claude. A pleasure."

Clad in such strange black armour and an overcoat, it was clearly not a professor Lysithea recognised and from the looks of things, neither did any of the other students. It was only Claude who seemed to know who the stranger was, his face immediately brightening as he caught the attention of the room with his greeting.

"Nice to see ya! Let me guess, this means you're teaching us Golden Deer?" Claude cried out, the man giving a stiff nod in return. "Don't tell me, you chose this class just to get to know me better, am I right? I'm flattered. Well, maybe I shouldn't be so informal. You're the teacher now after all."

"Teaching us?" Lysithea parroted to herself, folding her arms. She hadn't heard anything about there being any new staff joining Garreg Mach; surely the news of a new professor wouldn't be kept under wraps until such short notice? And if the man was being kept secret, why did Claude know about him? Sure, he was the house leader, but that meant little in practicality save for a little more authority over the others. There was something Lysithea was missing from the puzzle. "How strange…"

"Guys, meet Byleth. He was one of the mercenaries who helped me and the other house leaders out with a little bandit trouble. Looks like he's chosen to be our professor as well." Claude said, throwing an arm around the blue-haired man's shoulders. Byleth didn't show any response at all, merely glancing to the arm before returning to surveying the students with a keen eye. "He's pretty close to our age, but he's the real deal. I don't think we would've made it out of the forest without this guy's help."

"Our age? What a rather… exceptional appointment." Lorenz drawled, a hand held dramatically to his face. "Becoming a teacher to students nearly the same age as yourself, one can marvel at the idea. It's somewhat discomforting in my opinion, regardless of supposed talent."

"You really that strong? Your arms are like noodles." Raphael added in his own jovial way, grabbing Byleth's arm and waving it about like a toy. Indeed, compared to Raphael, the professor was woefully lacking in the muscle department. Then again, most anyone was lacking in comparison to Raphael.

"I wouldn't' judge him solely on that. Apparently, he has the recommendation of Alois, one of the Knights of Seiros." Ignatz interrupted, the green-haired boy pushing his glasses back into place. "Surely a recommendation wouldn't come on foul information."

"Who cares? I saw his skill with my own eyes." Claude said, leaning back against the nearby pillar with an easy smile. "Besides, Byleth here's the son of the most renowned former captain of the knights. Gotta mean something, right?"

"I heard! There's no way the son of the captain himself isn't worthy. It's impossible!" Leonie added, practically buzzing in place with energy. "When you have the Bladebreaker, one of the greatest captains and mercenaries out there, teaching you, you have to be great."

"Perhaps you're exaggerating somewhat," Byleth remarked, unaware that he would be awakening a beast in Leonie. After all, she was one of Bladebreaker Jeralt's greatest fans; to hear someone speak so casually of him was bound to bring forth a reaction.

"Well, it doesn't matter what you think! He deserves as much respect as you can give!"

Lysithea tuned out the rest of the conversation as it devolved into aimless chatter about messing about and bickering, content with observing the man stuck in the middle of it all.

There was something… wrong about Byleth, something that Lysithea couldn't put her finger on. It was almost as if there was something artificial about the blue-haired man, inhumane. He didn't seem to show anything at all on his face or in his voice, nor did he seem to react with to any of the jibes or jokes that were made to him.

One would be forgiven for thinking the man simply stoic as you'd expect of a mercenary, but Lysithea prided herself on her observational ability; there was a difference between suppressing your emotions and having nothing there at all, something that Lysithea had never seen before. Either he was someone who was the most skilled at disguising their thoughts or there was something they didn't know about their newest professor.

For Lysithea, it might as well be an open challenge to find out the answer and Lysithea always found the answer.

"Marianne. What do you think about the new professor?" Lysithea offhandedly questioned, watching as the blue-haired girl twitched in her seat before she answered.

"Well, he seems nice… Kind of scary though." Marianne admitted, shrinking back with a small blush of embarrassment on her cheeks. "What about you?"

"He's… interesting. Very interesting. This year might turn out to be more fun than I thought."

* * *

"The lesson has begun. Silence." Lysithea perked up as the man called those words; finally, she would get to see what Byleth was actually capable of. While a mercenary might not exactly be the most capable of teaching someone more magic-oriented such as herself, there had to be some evidence behind his reputation. "Apologies if this lesson appears less than planned. As I have no prior teaching experience, I shall be using the techniques taught to me by my father and the other mercenaries. Question: which is better? Strength or magical ability?"

"It's gotta be strength! Can't do a thing if you don't have the muscles for it." Raphael answered proudly from his seat, Lysithea rolling her eyes.

Friendly as he was, Raphael had no care for the subtle nuances of battle. He could make somewhat reasonable strategies but otherwise, the muscular boy was far more likely to simply charge the enemy than try and abuse weaknesses. It worked well enough for him, most of the time, but not everyone could be so brazen in the way they fought.

"I see. Then what if I were to do this?" Byleth questioned, his eyes suddenly glaring at the opposite side of the classroom. "Ignatz!"

"Y-yes, Professor!?" but the green-haired boy wouldn't get a reply, for a wicked sounding splash echoing through the classroom drew the attention away.

There was silence as the sponge slowly slid off Hilda's face, the pink-haired girl struggling to hold back her rage as the wet object dripped all over her specially customised uniform. It would take a second before anyone truly registered what had happened; the moment that Byleth had called Ignatz's name, he had launched a water-filled sponge directly at one of his students, no doubt assisted by wind-based magic.

Lysithea had to hold back her snickers as an enraged screech escaped Hilda. Yes, their new professor really was going to be interesting.

"The issue with physical strength is that one must telegraph what they intend to do. You must swing a weapon that can be seen; if you want to attack, you enemy will know." Byleth intoned, blank eyes crossing over every student as if he hadn't just assaulted one of their own with a cleaning implement. "Magic has no such requirements. The moment that your opponent can tell what you're doing, you already have fired the spell in their direction. Another lesson – do not be distracted. In a battle, Hilda just died."

"This is… this is absolutely ridiculous!" Lorenz spluttered, the blue-haired boy slamming his hands onto the desk before him. "This is hardly behaviour suited for a professor!"

The response was yet another sponge flying at incredible speeds through the air, Lorenz letting out an undignified noise as it nearly knocked him out of his seat.

Lysithea openly laughed that time.

"I have been tasked to teach you how to fight. So long as the lesson is learnt, any method is to be used." Byleth declared, his tone so definite that any other arguments died upon the students' tongues. Even if any others wanted to object, they probably wouldn't be able to after such an authoritative statement. "Another lesson – if your enemy has used an attack, prepare for it."

"S-so you're saying that magic is superior to physical fighting, Professor?" Ignatz questioned, trying his best to hide his distress. The moment that he finished his statement, the green-haired boy threw his arms before his face, trembling with a whimper as the sponge splashed against them.

"Everyone, be like Ignatz. Ignatz learns." Byleth said before he pulled a bucket onto the table, now bereft of the ammunition it had been carrying before. "Answer: no. Magic has strengths, but also weaknesses like physical power. Watch."

Lysithea's laughter was immediately cut short when Byleth seemingly teleported directly behind her and Marianne, leaning against the pillar behind their desks with a resolute frown. If it weren't for the fact that she restrained herself at the last second, the white-haired girl was pretty sure she would've thrown a fireball into Byleth's face.

"You two, punch me. In the gut." Byleth ordered, completely uncaring for the way that the two girls gawped at him. "No hesitation. In a battle, you two just died."

With a wary look to Marianne that was answered with uncertain hesitancy, Lysithea eventually gave a shrug of her shoulders before the two reeled back and punched with all of their might. She wasn't going to lie; the fact that Byleth didn't even flinch, let alone be hurt by the punches, was a little disheartening.

"Magic-users are physically weak – low stamina and muscle. Get into close quarters and they will fall." Byleth explained, the professor returning to the front of the classroom before pulling out several different sheets in four neat piles, far more than any of the students had ever seen. "Physical power: good at close range, bad at long. Magical power; good at long range, bad at short. Magic moves slower than arrows but can be cast faster. Each has strengths and weaknesses, so I shall prepare you for both. Disregard one and face injury or death. Some of you are better at one than the other; I have prepared advanced and simpler material for both magic and physical combat application."

And with a flick of the man's hands, the many sheets of paper upon his desk went flying through the air, landing perfectly on each student's desk. Lysithea only had to pick up her own work to realise just how much of an impressive move it was; each person had been given a specific combination of work tailored to their abilities, all organised simply through the use of wind magic. If one or two had been right, then it could be a fluke, but everyone had received the appropriate difficulty for their current skillset.

There was only one problem.

"Professor. I apologise, but I have already completed this level of magic work." Lysithea pointed out with her hand raised, Byleth's eyebrow rising for barely a second before his face settled back into neutrality. That was perhaps the only reaction she had seen out of the man.

"…I see." Was all he spoke before diving down beneath his desk once more, a rolled scroll held beneath his arms as he coughed. "I shall be working with Lysithea. If you need assistance, ask your classmates. If that fails, then ask me."

Turns out, the scroll was actually a map, rolled out before Lysithea as Byleth diligently set down various figures and symbols upon what appeared to be Gronder Fields. While it was certainly an interesting thing to look at, she wasn't exactly sure how it connected to magical ability.

"You are in command of five men. Three magic users, swordsman, lancer. The enemy is ten, unknown affinities. Only visual information is four men in heavy armour, two carrying bows. You are restricted to magic only – lack of weapons." Byleth ordered, her soldiers coloured blue while the enemy was a sickly red upon the map. "Tell me how you use magic and your men to rout the enemy."

"Okay…" so essentially, it was a combat-based chess game – Lysithea could handle that. She was quite fond of strategy, yet her age and appearance meant there were woefully few chances to test such things. Strong burly knights just weren't happy being led by a young girl. "Send the swordsman out first, flanked by the lancer. Use their distraction to move the magic users into a more advantageous position.

"Denied. Swordsman refuses to follow your orders due to age prejudice." Byleth stated harshly, Lysithea looking to her professor with what could only be described as pure outrage. "Next move."

"E-excuse me, Professor?"

"You haven't moved. The enemy has discovered you. Your men are preparing to move independently. Next move." Byleth continued relentlessly, staring at the map disturbingly intently. Lysithea was forced to shake her head and quickly reply, lest the professor essentially act out the simulation without her.

"Right, can't use the swordsman… utilise the lancer and myself as the distraction, focus the magic users on the bowmen. Use the lancer to draw the attention of the heavy armours and I'll use magic to dispose of them at a safe distance!"

"Magic-users move, lancer moves. Two heavy armours defeated by your magic. Swordsman attacks two others independently, is killed by ambush. You failed."

"You can't just do that Professor! That's not fair!" Lysithea immediately protested with a pout. "You're the one making the personalities, you can't just do random stuff and fail me for it. If I knew he was going to do that-!"

"That is why you failed. You didn't learn about their personalities. Another lesson – understand the quirks of your soldiers. Play to them. Had you asked, I would've explained."

When he phrased it like that, Lysithea had no voice to argue with. The attitudes and temperaments of your soldiers controlled the way they acted and if someone was too stubborn to listen to your commands, they risked ruining everything. It was even worse if they acted without regards to their life. To not know your men was a gamble too big to take on the battlefield.

The pout on Lysithea's face grew. The fact that he was right didn't mean she had to like it.

"Fine. Tell me everything you know about them." Lysithea ordered, her hands subconsciously curling into fists. She was one of the smartest people her age; she wouldn't let something as simple as a professor's first assignment defeat her!

"Lancer: Damien MacFair. Extremely shy and withdrawn. Anxious demeanour, easily startled. Comfortable around the more crude and loud. Fights better for others, wants to make people smile." Byleth listed off, the smallest hint of something coming to his face as he spoke. "Swordsman: Kyle Salieri. Cold, calm and aloof. A tendency to work alone and out of personal motivations. Won't harm women or children. Prideful in his skill, yet average in practicality. Values strength over personality. Mage one: Alice Ricke-."

"Those are some… rather random details." Lysithea noticed, placing her palm upon her cheek as she looked towards the map. "Did you really need to make up so much stuff about the soldiers for a school simulation?"

"I did not make them up. These are real people." Byleth explained, Lysithea starting slightly. "This battle has occurred, I was the one meant to lead them. You have made the same mistakes as me."

That last statement was what caught the white-haired girl off guard. This was a battle that the professor was involved in? And she had made the same mistakes? But that meant…

"Professor, then the guy you called Kyle…!"

"I was eight at the time. Kyle would protect me, but he would not listen to my orders. I dug his grave."

Byleth's words sent a shiver down Lysithea's spine. They should've been sad, yet the man said them as if he were discussing the weather. Was that truly how Mercenaries saw each other's lives? Something normal? God, was he going to try and make them feel the same? The thought alone almost made Lysithea vomit. It was only his next line that made the girl's feelings change.

"I never forgave myself. I carry that burden to this day. I will not allow my students to be placed in that situation. You made the same mistakes here so you won't on the battlefield." Byleth said, almost towering over Lysithea as he leaned forward on the desk. "You have much potential, especially in magic. You will be able to keep your friends alive. I will make sure of it."

"…Of course Professor. I'll do my best." Lysithea replied, seating herself more comfortably as she stared at the board. Her professor had faith in her ability – she would show him that faith was not unfounded. "Let me try this again Professor! I know I can do it!"

The next hour would be spent with constant failures and retries, Byleth's harsh statements and advice interspersed with Lysithea's orders. They would not hear the bell, too engrossed in the simulation, nor would they realise that the rest of the class had devoted themselves to completing the work individually, the classroom empty save for the pair.

It was one of the most informative lessons Lysithea had ever experienced in her life.


	3. Divine protection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Lysithea cannot take the way Byleth seems to be babying her for no reason. Unfortunately for her, something seems to have convinced him that she's far too frail.

"You think you're better than us just because you got in early?" one particularly burly fellow questioned, Lysithea letting out a quiet grunt when the push shoved her against the wall. "You can't even take someone knocking into you in the hallway! A crappy little child like you ain't gonna make it in the Officer's Academy!"

"I don't _think_ I'm better than you, I _know_ I am." The smaller girl retorted, folding her arms. "After all, I don't resort to a pathetic attempt at bullying when people prove themselves more skilled. IF you were maybe somewhat close to meeting my grades, maybe it'd be another story, but you're one step away from failing out. You're nowhere close to lecturing me about making it in the Academy."

"This is a place for knights, strong guys who are meant to protect the people. Who cares about our grades when we're some of the best fighters in our year?" another boy said, cracking his knuckles. Their aggressive behaviour only got worse when Lysithea merely rolled her eyes, unflinching when his fist slammed against the bricks beside her head. "Weak little children like you should just head home before they end up killing themselves and their classmates. Maybe you should come back when someone can touch you without snapping you in half!"

If Lysithea had her way, the bullies would've already been set alight and drowning in darkness for their words. Indeed, the flames were already dancing around her fingers before they were suddenly extinguished in the white-haired girl's shock, courtesy of the arrows that suddenly flew towards them.

The sheer precision of the arrows spoke of a master archer, cutting through the air at incredible speeds to smack into the second bully's fist while the other was unfortunate enough to take the arrow to the back of his head. It was just a shame that the arrows were blunt.

It didn't mean they didn't hurt however, the two boys reeling back with a cry as the arrows clattered to the ground. Biting back curses on their tongues, the two began looking around, completely ignoring their original target while they searched for the archer. Luckily for them, it didn't take long for said archer to reveal himself.

"You think you can take on the future Captain of the Knights!?" the first bully yelled out, more than ready to beat down on the culprit until he turned around and caught sight of who he actually was. With his partner turning around at the same time, it barely took a second before their faces fell and their bluster dissolved away. "P-Professor Eisner!?"

"Captain of the Knights?" Byleth parroted, an unreadable tone to his voice. To the bullies, it only made even more terrifying as the professor lowered his bow and slowly stalked forward. "You, Captain of the Knights of Seiros? The most important job in the Church's militia? The job only given to the greatest warriors? Do you recall your grades?"

"U-Um, e-er-"

"Sword: C+. Axe. C+. Lance: C." Byleth began. Certainly not an unreasonable grade for where they were in their education; Lysithea, for all of her skills elsewhere, had admittedly worse scores. It was only when the blue-haired man continued when the boy began to wince more and more. "Bow: E+. Reason: E. Faith: E. Riding: D. Flying: D. Authority: Failed. As you are, you will never become Captain."

It was only then when the bullies realised just how many people had surrounded them. After all, when Byleth had suddenly taken a bow from the armoury along with a bunch of practice arrows and shot off, it was only natural that people would be confused and follow along. What had once been an isolated area was now teeming with curious bystanders, bystanders who now had heard everything the blue-haired man had said.

"Leave, now. I will report this to Lady Rhea. Bullying will not be tolerated."

Needless to say, the two boys didn't stick around long enough to hear the comments bubbling in the crowd. When the alternative was facing the combined wrath of the Archbishop and the Ashen Demon, it was clear they had no other choice.

"Professor. While I appreciate the assistance, it was unnecessary. I could've easily handled them." Lysithea remarked as Byleth approached, just a little hint of bitterness entering her voice. "They're brutes, and foolish brutes at that. How _they_ managed to get accepted into Garreg Mach, I'll never understand."

"You could've been injured. They are physically strong." Byleth pointed out, absently spinning the arrow in his hand as he had seen Claude do many a time. He wasn't quite at the same level of smoothness and effortlessness that the Golden Deer leader had achieved, but Byleth was slowly getting there. "You would attack with magic. They are not idiots. With them injured and not you, they'd claim you attacked them. You would be placed in a bad position. I brought witnesses. They couldn't hide."

"I care little for reputation Professor. I'm in a position where it doesn't matter what people think of me. I'm more than capable of defending myself from idiots!" Lysithea groaned, stomping her foot like a petulant child. If you asked anyone willing to face the white-haired girl's anger, they would've said she was one. "Professor, I may be younger than my classmates, but I'm just as able, if not more so than them! So why do you insist on coddling me?"

"Coddling?" Byleth replied, only an eyebrow rising when an angered pout came to Lysithea's face.

"Yes, coddling Professor! You're treating me like a child, just like everyone else!" Lysithea said. "You always go easy on me during training, you place me near the back during missions and any time someone even looks at me funny, you're always somehow there in the background! You clearly don't do this for anyone else, but apparently, I'm too frail!"

Byleth had no words for that. What was he meant to say? It was all entirely true. With the bullies disturbingly more common with their taunts and threats, Byleth had always been there to ensure no harm came to Lysithea, even if she hadn't known… or at least, Byleth _thought_ she hadn't known.

"Lysithea, I have been tas-"

"I know. You've repeated the same thing so many times it's like you're a broken record Professor." Lysithea interrupted in exasperation. "I've been tasked to teach you, I've been tasked to protect you, I have been tasked to guide you – but you're not Professor. You're treating me like a flower to be protected and I hate it! Good day, Professor Eisner; I'll be working in my room. I _won't_ be expecting any guests."

Byleth silently watched the girl storm off, mentally thankful that the crowds had thinned out after the confrontation with the bullies. It meant that they weren't around to see the frown that appeared upon the blue-haired man's face as he clutched his forehead in pain.

" **The memories are back, I take it."** A gentle goddess' words came into his mind, lacking in its usual haughty sharpness. **"I understand your pain, but she is right. You are coddling her far beyond what you should be."**

"I refuse to let it happen again. Not on my watch." Byleth whispered, the closest thing the blue-haired man had to anger seeping into his voice. "If this is what it takes, I shall do it. If it means doing it forever, I shall do it."

" **Yet acting as you are now makes her far more vulnerable."** The voice replied. **"Before changing the flow of time, you trained her extensively, why do you choose not to do so now?"**

"I trained her and it was not enough. I failed in my task." Those were words rarely said by Byleth. With such a large streak of successful missions beneath his belt as a mercenary, the act of failure was a rarity, one which brought a bitter taste to his mouth. "Only a fool expects the future to change by acting the same."

" **And only a fool expects a bird to learn how to fly in a gilded cage."** said the voice. **"If you train her as you should, then she will have a greater chance of success. Continue in these foolish ways and you only make her more vulnerable. Or do you seek to protect her for her entire life?"**

The voice faded into silence as Byleth was left silent once more, staring at the ground. Even if she said that…

* * *

_Byleth ran as fast as possible, yet he would never have been fast enough to stop the gauntlets from caving Lysithea's face in. Cradling her broken, bloody body in his arms, the professor let out a monstrous roar before the hands of time turned._

_It was an ambush they couldn't have seen coming. With the advantage of stealth on their side, it was only natural that they went for the weakest in their formation, the arrow striking Lysithea's heart with deadly precision._

_Before the hands of time turned, Byleth took care to brutalise the bandit's body as vengeance._

* * *

" _Professor, go!"_

_As the roof of the building fell, Byleth could only watch as a tonne of rock collapsed onto Lysithea's body, a weary smile on the girl's face being all he saw before she was reduced to little more than a bloody past. If he had been even a second earlier. Perhaps it would've been him beneath the rubble. As it was, however, all he could do was burn the events into his mind before the hands of time turned._

* * *

_Byleth had lost count of how many times he had repeated this scenario._

_This time, it was not one of his students who had fallen. No, the enemy's stronghold was far too skilled and stocked for such an optimistic outcome. Instead, Byleth stood among the fallen corpses of his students as several archers aimed towards his head, only a Goddess' intervention preventing the professor from joining them all in the next life._

_Once the hands of time turned, Byleth suggested the full might of the Knights of Seiros be sent instead, supported by forged evidence based upon the horrific sights he had witnessed._

* * *

...Byleth had promised. He would keep those students alive. No matter what it took.

* * *

"Oh Dorte, they've let your mane get all dirty." Marianne tutted as she ran the brush through the lustrous coat of the warhorse. "Those knights force you to trample through the mud to keep themselves clean, the least they could do is thank you for the help…"

A loud whinny suddenly escaped Dorte, Marianne stepping back in slight surprise as the warhorse reared his head upward through the stable window. Seeing as Dorte was a far more sociable creature than his carer was, that could only mean one thing.

"Hey, stop that! It tickles!"

"Lysithea?" Marianne asked as she pulled the mighty beast back as well as she could, allowing her to slip through and see the white-haired girl cleaning off her face with dying giggles. "I thought you were getting desserts for yourself…"

"I was, until some idiots tried to act all tough on me," Lysithea replied, her eyes turning downward as a bitter undertone took place. "And the Professor appeared again. I seriously don't get that man. He's been acting so weird lately, always appearing out of nowhere and making it look like I need a babysitter just to live!"

"I'm sure he just doesn't want you to get hurt." Marianne reasoned hesitantly. "I mean, your physical combat practical was slightly… worse than usual."

"And I've been practising because of it! I've been training with the sword for ages, but I never get to test it out because the Professor won't let me!" Lysithea whined, stomping her foot. "He's been making things worse even. People keep saying I'm a teacher's pet because he won't leave me alone in battle for a minute."

"…Professor Eisner is a person of reason. I think so at least…" the blue-haired girl spoke after a moment's pause, absently running her hand along Dorte as the warhorse basked in the attention. "Have you tried asking him about it?"

"Yeah, he keeps getting defensive about it. Something about 'consequences better left unseen." Lysithea sighed. "I just can't understand him. He's like an open book and a locked safe at the same time, so simple and yet so complex!"

Marianne didn't even try and interrupt when Lysithea launched on some sort of tirade, merely nodding her head gently whenever the white-haired girl's eyes looked in her direction. While Lysithea was years younger than Marianne, she tended to start using terminology and analogies far beyond what the quiet girl could comprehend; better to let Lysithea get it out of her system than try and interrupt without full understanding. Luckily, Lysithea never complained; many were used to barely hearing Marianne.

"…Um, I really don't know how to help." The blue-haired girl eventually remarked when it was clear that Lysithea was running out of steam. "I'm sorry. Outside of lessons, I don't talk to the Professor much."

Fortunately for Marianne, a lone figure appeared at the stables, someone who could _actually help_ rather than merely listen to Lysithea's concerns. Unfortunately for Lysithea, that figure just so happened to be Byleth, the white-haired girl already groaning as she prepared to storm away.

At least, she was going to until she heard the sound of wood clattering against the ground, Lysithea turning around in confusion to find a training blade sitting innocently on the floor. Considering that a glance showed a similar-looking sword held in the blue-haired man's hands, it was only natural for Lysithea to tense.

"Professor?"

"Show me you can defend yourself. Prove yourself to me." Byleth demanded, no room for arguments.

It wasn't the same as when he was teaching, that was something both Marianne and Lysithea were horrified to realise. No, the intensity behind his words and the stance that Byleth had taken had only been seen in one place – the battlefield. Needless to say, this wasn't any normal training.

"Um, Professor? If this is about what I said earlier-"

"You believe you are strong enough for independence. I do not." Byleth interrupted, pulling his blade back above his head with a single hand. It was a stance no other shared, a form that had been forged through non-traditional training and combat. "Go forward with those beliefs. Prove to me I am wrong in mine."

Lysithea would not have the time to choose otherwise, for Marianne's warning cry was the only thing preventing a wooden blade from trying to cut her in two. Only barely managing to grab the training armament her professor had thrown down, Lysithea was forced into a somewhat crude defensive position – far from what she had learnt, but no less efficient.

Or it would've been, had Byleth not been one of the strongest men she had the pleasure of doing combat against. While it would've been sufficient for any normal soldier, the blue-haired man was no ordinary fighter and it took all of Lysithea's strength to prevent her sword from being batted away.

She couldn't afford to lose, however. If this was what it took for Byleth to realise she could defend herself, then she would fight with all of her might. Even if it brought Lysithea to her knees, she would prove herself worthy.

Byleth didn't hesitate. Whenever an opening appeared, he relentlessly abused it. By artificially producing his own weak spots, he led Lysithea in a deadly dance like a puppet. Her fighting style, forged through strict traditional study and training, meant little against the unorthodox mannerisms Byleth had developed over the years.

It wasn't long before Lysithea realised her dire straits. With burning arms and trembling legs, her frail body was screaming for her to stop. It wasn't as if the professor was giving her the chance to, not a single ounce of remorse on his face as he repeatedly battered upon his student. If she couldn't pull a miracle out of nowhere, she was surely finished; she would never live the shame down.

" _Physical power: good at close range, bad at long. Magical power; good at long range, bad at short. Magic moves slower than arrows but can be cast faster. Each has strengths and weaknesses, so I shall prepare you for both."_

A moment of inspiration hit Lysithea's face as the professor's words passed through her mind, approximately at the same time as Byleth's sword hit her shoulder.

" _Another lesson – do not be distracted."_

Oh yes. He also said _that_ too.

Shaking her head, Lysithea charged forward once more, new energy entering her movements. Byleth wasn't too sure what could've brought such a thing on, but he didn't question it; exactly what the white-haired girl wanted.

Byleth mentally appraised Lysithea as he continued his assault. At first, it seemed as if she was going to give up, but some strange power kept her moving and fighting perhaps just a little fiercer than before. While her strength left something to be desired, her determination was something nobody could ever question. The only issue was how she telegraphed all of her moves.

Training was meant to show someone how to properly execute a move or technique and therefore, often exaggerated movements, even if in only slight manners. For Byleth however, it meant that he could always tell what Lysithea was going to do next. She might as well be just telling him where to defend and strike.

The moment that his coat was set on fire, Byleth threw it off his body, reeling back as he extinguished the admittedly small flame. Looking to where Lysithea was panting, small traces of magical energy floating from her fingers, Byleth momentarily froze before giving a nod.

"You implied you wanted me to show the strength to act independently. Theoretically, that never indicated that we were only to fight with swords." Lysithea reasoned, as well as she could when she could barely breathe. "Therefore, I hypothesised I could use your expectations to disguise my final move. If that didn't work, I don't know what I would've done, but… the experiment was a success…"

Lysithea collapsed into Marianne's arms, the blue-haired girl already preparing several healing and ailment soothing spells. As she was, there was no way Lysithea was going to be able to make it back to her dorm.

"Professor…? Does this mean… you'll let me actually fight?" Lysithea panted, Byleth holding back his answer for a moment, picking up the discarded blade from the ground.

" **She certainly is a tenacious one, isn't she? I see why you have taken such an interest in her. Well, at least I will not have to utilise my powers as often. They make me so tired… Go on; I'm sure you already have your answer."**

"Yes. You have proven yourself worthy."

Watching the look of relief on both Marianne and Lysithea's faces, Byleth felt something within his chest stir. It wasn't something the blue-haired man couldn't recognise; it wasn't a wound, for it was actually a pleasant sensation. A sensation that Byleth wasn't against feeling again.

It was… warm.


	4. Deer today, gone tomorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Golden Deer have gone mysteriously missing and it's down to Lysithea to find out the truth. Fortunately for her, she comes across Mercedes, who could be the help she needs.

Lysithea sighed as she sat down, dangling the tips of her toes into the water. Not even the serene sight of fish going about their daily lives was enough to draw the white-haired girl out of her funk, Lysithea ultimately giving up in favour of curling into a ball.

There was rarely a day where you couldn't find at least some of the Golden Deer hanging out; as opposed to the Leicester Alliance itself, rife with inner turmoil and corrupt conflict, the Golden deer students were surprisingly close regardless of the bickering that plagued their classroom. Particularly on such a beautiful day like today, where they had no official lessons planned, the gold-bearing students could often be found lazing about, watching Leonie and Raphael trained while the others either pitched in or went about their hobbies.

It was why Lysithea was so shocked to find the grass outside their classroom completely devoid of her classmates, as well as the classroom itself. In fact, they didn't seem to be any trace of them at all in the entirety of Garreg Mach! While it was certainly no small area to traverse, especially for one who wasn't exactly built for physical exertion, it was near impossible for such a thing to occur unless they were on a mission.

Despite her concerns, Lysithea gave a small huff to herself. After that little confrontation, they wouldn't be so idiotic to take a mission and exclude her. Not if they didn't want to face her wrath.

No, there had to be some other reason, some logical connection that Lysithea was missing. For such an eclectic mess of personalities to all disappear at the same time, there had to be a special reason. While some could be potentially visiting family or handling manners that their nobility would require them to, the probability of everyone in her class having to attend to such a thing at once was incredibly low.

The only thing that could evidence such a weak hypothesis would be if a major issue tore through the Leicester Alliance and while her family wasn't exactly the most important, she was still the heir of a land bearing house. She would've surely been informed along with everyone else if such a thing were to occur.

The possibility of a mass illness had passed through Lysithea's mind. After all, if there had been a medical issue with the Golden Deer that the infirmary was unable to handle, then they would've been shipped to a more capable, proper hospital. A quick visit to Professor Casagranda however almost immediately disproved it; there had been no reports of even light illness at all.

With no chores to be handled on the weekend, and therefore no need for people to leave the monastery, Lysithea was left completely stumped. It simply didn't make any logical sense for everyone to disappear at once, not if they were leaving her alone.

"Now then Lysithea, what has you so downtrodden?" the sweet voice of Mercedes spoke from behind, Lysithea turning upwards to see the older Blue Lion crouching down beside her. "I can't stay sad when I'm near the fish. Something must be bothering you badly."

"Just a little confused." Lysithea sighed. "Everyone's disappeared from the Golden Deer and I have no idea where they are. It's worrying."

Lysithea was silently thankful that it was Mercedes that had stumbled across her. Save for the Professor and perhaps Edelgarde, she was one of the easiest people to talk to anyone could ever hope to come across - being raised as part of the church did that to people. It was just… so hard to be upset around her, for Mercedes naturally exuded an aura of joy and warmth like one would expect from their own mother.

"Everyone's disappeared? Oh dear…" Mercedes replied, holding her hands to her mouth. "Well, I'm sure if it were something important they would've told you. Are you sure they didn't leave you a message?"

"Nope, nothing! It's like they all turned into ghosts!" the white-haired girl said, before promptly regretting it as the image passed through her mind. Oh god, she was not going to be haunted by the spirits of her classmates. Claude would totally try and do that if he could. "I've checked everywhere. The only thing I could do from this point is to search the rest of Fodlan."

"Hmm, how strange…" Mercedes hummed, a sudden smile appearing on the blonde's face as she reached behind her and pulled out a small slip of paper, an innocuous appearance that betrayed how valuable it was. "It wouldn't do any good if you end up collapsing from stress though. I'll bring this up with the professors and see if I can't find any answers. You should relax and de-wind before you hurt yourself."

Lysithea could barely believe her eyes as she took the slip, looking at the elegant script emblazoned upon the front.

"Mercedes, you're actually giving me a Sauna Slip!?"

"I was fortunate enough to come across one, but I've never been too enamoured with the idea. I'm sure you'll appreciate it more." came the giggly reply. "As I said, relax and let me handle this for now. I'll come to the sauna if I find anything out."

The Blue Lion was acting way too casual about the gift she was giving. While Garreg Mach Monastery was home to an amazing sauna, access to it was incredibly rare; to assist with raising funds for the monastery, the sauna was often rented out. Therefore, unless students begged their families for the necessary funds, it was rare to see a resident of the Officer's Academy have the necessary slip to get past the door. It must've cost Mercedes an arm and a leg, and here she was simply giving it away because she didn't feel like it.

"I… thank you, Mercedes! Not only are you giving me this, but you're also dealing with my problems as well…" Lysithea replied, bowing her head deeply as she got to her knees.

"Oh no, not at all. With recent events, members of the Officer's Academy disappearing is everyone's problem. I would be a fool not to act." The blonde was quick to reassure, helping Lysithea to her feet and brushing off her uniform. Admittedly, it made Lysithea feel like a child, but she could tolerate it in the face of Mercedes' kindness. "Now off you go. Enjoy yourself. I'll have it all handled."

"Okay… thank you Mercedes!" watching Lysithea walk off hesitantly, clutching the Sauna Slip as if it were an irreplaceable treasure, Mercedes did her best to hide the small smile that threatened to appear. Considering who Mercedes was, that ultimately meant it appeared without resistance, along with some hushed giggles.

"That poor girl. If only she knew the truth… Claude, you best know what you're doing."

* * *

Byleth approached the task with the same vigour one would expect of a knight upon the field. With all of his tools prepared eagerly by Mercedes, the blue-haired man immediately leapt into action, barely a word leaving his lips.

While the flames brought 500 millilitres of milk to barely above room temperature, dextrous hands carefully lined the sides and bottom of a tin with butter, placing a small sheet of paper upon the bottom. That formed the perfect vessel for their final product, placed aside while the man turned his attention elsewhere.

Dutifully accepting the 3 eggs and extra egg yolk that his assistant had prepared, Byleth added 100 grams of sugar, the might and muscle built from endless hours of training and battle used to beat the ingredients together until they were perfectly combined. With 70 grams of cocoa powder and a teaspoon of vanilla extract (lovingly made by the chefs at the monastery itself, despite vanilla most prominently coming from outside of Fodlan), they were prepared to enter the next step.

And what perfect timing it was, for the milk had reached an optimal temperature at that moment according to Mercedes' measurements. Once the Blue Lion slowly began to add said milk, the professor vigorously stirring all the while, a strange-looking paste began to transform into a far more inviting dark mixture, the rich scent of chocolate wafting into the air.

It was primed for its new container, the mix gliding smoothly into the greased tin with nary a trace remaining in the mixing bowl. That tin was then placed into a roasting tray, one that Mercedes had taken care to fill with enough boiling water as to half fill the tin; enough for the water to serve its purpose with little chance of encountering the mixture itself.

Byleth carefully turned to the oven, brought up to temperature by Mercedes: approximately 160 degrees Celsius. There would their masterpiece remain for 50 minutes, drawing in the ambient heat and metamorphosing into something that could be described as truly magical.

That wasn't to say that their hands remained idle for such a length of time. No, they were quickly put to work by Byleth and Mercedes carefully chopping 120 grams of dark chocolate and bringing a pot of water to the boil respectively.

With roughly 4 teaspoons' worth of sugar syrup prepared and butter brought forth from the cold store to reach room temperature, the chocolate would be placed into a mixing bowl, one that perfectly sat upon the boiling water. Such meant that the chocolate and butter would melt without burning, creating a beautiful thick glaze that would complement their dessert magnificently.

That was to say nothing of the special garnish that Mercedes had prepared, something far beyond Byleth's admittedly limited knowledge in the world of the culinary arts.

White chocolate, roughly chopped and placed upon a baking tray lined with paper. Though held at a slightly lower temperature than their main creation – approximately 120 degrees rather than 160 – it had still attained a beautiful deep golden brown colouration with careful stirring every 10 minutes. Sitting in the cold store, it would be a delight crumbled over their work.

All that was left was to prepare some Brighid imported cherries and crumble some shortbread biscuits famous within the Leicester Alliance and everything was prepared. All they had to do was wait.

* * *

Lysithea sank into the waters, any worries melting away as she basked in the heat. Even if the ugly thoughts still reared up at the back of her mind, the reassurances of Mercedes combined with the intimate experience was more than enough to make her content with savouring the sauna.

A smile settled upon her face. She was one of the few students who would ever get to use the sauna during their school time.

Except she wasn't meant to be. Mercedes was. It was her who had received the sauna slip, a highly expensive and coveted item that few would give away so easily. Mercedes was meant to be the one enjoying herself, yet here Lysithea was, basking in luxury while Mercedes did the work the white-haired girl was meant to. Even though the blonde said she didn't care, it made every second that Lysithea spent in the waters feel guilty.

Rising from the sauna and reaching for her towel, a thought suddenly came to Lysithea's mind. If Mercedes was not one for saunas, then why did she have a slip for access? It would make no sense to purchase one herself, nor would it make sense for anyone to give it to her if she didn't like them. Actually, Mercedes was rather fond of skincare, having the softest skin imaginable; surely she would love the sauna that was famed for making your skin years younger?

Lysithea quickly put the thought out of her mind. It would not do to look a gift horse in the mouth.

With her lithe form dried and her hair as close to dry as she could hope to get it, the white-haired girl stepped out into the cold crisp air of the afternoon, stretching with a yawn. If she had spent any longer in there, there was no telling if she would've fallen asleep or not.

"Time to get back to work then… I've let Mercedes do too much for me as is…"

"Oh, so you've finished then? Was it as good as they say?" Lysithea had to do her best to hold back her squawk of surprise. Say what you will about the gentle nature of Mercedes, but it was frightening how she could suddenly appear out of nowhere. "…Lysithea?"

"Y-yeah, it was great. I still feel kind of bad that you just gave it to me for no reason." Lysithea muttered. If nothing else, then she could just blame the redness of her cheeks on the heat of the sauna. "More importantly, did you figure out where everyone was!?"

"Yes, you came out just in time! Come, I'll take you there right now!" Mercedes eagerly answered, grabbing Lysithea's arm and near bolting it towards the classroom.

It took all Lysithea had to stay on her feet, but if it meant learning about the whereabouts of her classmates, she would give it her all. That alone was enough to bring new energy to her feet, running at such a speed that if it weren't for the need for Mercedes to lead the way, Lysithea would've left her in the dust. As it was, it was clear that they were heading for the classrooms, Lysithea bursting through the door and…!

" _ **SURPRISE!"**_

The instincts distilled into her by Byleth immediately kicked into action, barely a second passing before dark magic welled at her fingertips and became a thick miasma that flew towards the source of the sound. With the threat of the Death Knight and all sorts of foul people entering the monastery, there was no time to hesitate in the face of an ambush.

It was only when Lysithea stopped to see the back of the Professor's coat burnt to a cinder, bloody baked flesh on show, when she realised that it was no ambush.

"P-Professor! I'm so sorry!" Lysithea immediately cried as she began to heal the wound to the best of her ability. Taking no notice of the people surrounding or the rather strange appearance of the classroom, she focused all that she had on healing; her magic caused no small amount of damage. "I thought that somebody had taken you, or you were ambushed, with everyone else! Where have you been!?"

"Preparing." Was all he said, completely unflinching as he threw his arm out and Lysithea got a proper look at the room.

Colourful streamers decorating the rooftop. A large assortment of patterned paper-wrapped boxes sitting to the side. a veritable feast of food all crammed onto the largest table available, which would've been vaporised if it weren't for Byleth's intervention. It would take a few moments, but the realisation hit like a truck, Claude stepping forward with a sigh.

"You're looking like this came out of nowhere. You always were a dedicated worker, but I never thought you would be so stressed that you would forget your own birthday." The Golden deer leader remarked with his hands behind his head. "Guess I can't blame you though. We didn't really get a distraction or excuse ready in time."

"There wouldn't have been a distraction at all if it weren't for the Professor roping in Mercedes at the last minute." Hilda scolded with a tut, lightly slapping the boy on the shoulder. "Sorry about that Lysithea. The original plan was for someone to tell you that we'd been tasked with a delivery. You know, to make the whole 'large number of boxes' thing seem reasonable. We never meant to worry you like that."

"Weren't you meant to do that Hilda?" Leonie pointed out.

"Me? Of course not. I would never forget such a crucial part of the plan!"

"Mercedes…? Then the whole sauna situation…!" Lysithea realised, turning to where the blonde was openly giggling.

"That ticket was your birthday present. When the Professor asked me to keep you occupied, I thought to give it to you a little earlier than planned and have you use it immediately. My apologies for misleading you." Mercedes explained. "I was afraid you were going to reject it, but you accepted luckily. It gave the Golden Deer enough time to prepare and for me to help the Professor make you a cake."

"Wait, _you_ made this cake Professor?" Lysithea repeated as she looked at the gorgeous log of pure chocolate.

Covered in crumbled shortbread, a selection of berries and caramelised white chocolate, sitting on a blanket of rich ganache, the baked chocolate mousse cake was a masterpiece to behold. Simply looking at it was enough to trigger Lysithea's deep-seated cravings for sugar, not at all helped by Byleth holding out a piece for her.

"I never celebrated my birthday. I had to ask everyone what was appropriate." Byleth stated waiting for Lysithea to take the slice before awkwardly rubbing the back of his head. "The chefs were too busy to prepare a cake, so I asked Mercedes how to create my own. I had initially thought of gifting you a strategy book, but I was informed that it was inappropriate…"

The white-haired girl had already made up her mind on the matter from the moment she looked at the cake, but that didn't stop her from eagerly taking the biggest chunk possible and shoving it into her mouth with all of the grace of a child. A chocolate smeared smile appeared on her face, though she was polite enough to swallow before speaking.

"It's great Professor! It tastes amazing!" She praised. "All of this… I can't believe you would go to this much trouble for me."

"Nothing less for our best magical bomb." Claude replied, laughing even as her elbow rammed into his stomach.

On that cheerful note, the party began in earnest, those Lysithea knew from other houses and years filtering in to join the fun. Great food was eaten, a strange mess of games invented by Raphael and surprisingly, Marianne, were played and Lorenz only got on people's nerves once.

Lysithea sat back with a content grin. It was exactly like the idiots that made the Golden Deer, to make her worry so much for such a petty reason. Still, one would be hard-pressed to find such a group better suited for someone as unique as herself.

She would never forget that day.


	5. Beauty and the Byleth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a rumour that couples who make a vow at the Goddess Tower on a certain night will have their dreams come true. While she has no plans to make a vow, Lysithea does have an unplanned encounter.

The Garreg Mach Monastery Ball. It was one of the most prestigious activities for the students of the Officer's Academy. After all, when one lived on a Monastery, where the only real activities were to train, pray or fish, any excuses to dress up and relax were eagerly anticipated.

Lit by the gentle golden light of the chandeliers above, the students were practically abuzz with energy. To the sound of a skilled band and light chatter, the centre of the hall was filled with the fortunate few who had managed to charm a partner onto the dance floor, Edelgard and Dimitri shining in the centre of the couples with their respective partners.

Lysithea rolled the blood-red liquid in her glass before partaking – only the finest of grape juices from the Adrestian Empire of course. A subtle sourness upon the tongue smoothed over by a sweet aftertaste, the perfect drink to help tide one over while waiting for the opportunity to join the dancing.

While the white-haired girl certainly wasn't as skilled in the art of dancing as her peers, her upbringing as a noble heir meant she had the minimal training so as not to embarrass herself in front of everyone. So long as she had a competent partner, then Lysithea would be able to provide an admirable show.

For the briefest of moments, Lysithea's face soured.

Ah yes. Partners.

The ball had been going on for quite the while and yet not a single person had asked Lysithea to join them for a dance. She was pretty sure that nearly every other girl had been graced with such an invitation; even Marianne had been seen in the arms of some mysterious man, a rare smile gracing her face the whole time. Why then was she the only one to be denied such a thing?

Well, when Lysithea pondered it, there were quite a few reasons. Not only did she not truly fraternise with many outside of her class, but her age was also most likely a rather important factor. Even as the heir of House Ordelia, many weren't willing to risk the rumours that were bound to form if they were found dancing with such a young girl as herself. If it weren't for the fact that Petra seemed more than content to simply stand at the side, then the Brighid native would be facing similar issues.

Not that it stopped a few of the unaware from gazing upon Petra's form, Lysithea noted with narrowed eyes before she shook her head. This was a time of relaxation and joy, not of jealousy.

Leaving her glass for one of the many attendants to deal with, the white-haired girl stepped out into the cold night, the frosty breeze an excellent feeling after the heat born from so many bodies nearby.

Lysithea had planned to simply bask in the light of a bright and full moon before returning to the other Golden deer, but a strange sight in the distance suddenly pushed those plans aside. Though the form was nought but a shadow, their destination was clear – the Goddess Tower.

Lysithea immediately began to move, her curiosity growing by the second. There was no reason for anyone to be heading towards the goddess tower, not so late at night. Perhaps someone had just a little too much of the wine made available and decided that their dorms were on the other side of the monastery – she would be remiss if she didn't help them find their way back.

Her bravery wavered slightly when she got a proper look at the Goddess Tower in all its rather intimidating glory. Cast in the shadows as it was, suddenly the ivy draped along its walls didn't look so beautiful, nor did its daunting size seem as impressive as it did overbearing. To a child, it would appear terrifying, almost ghostly in its appearance. For one as _mature and intelligent and strong_ as Lysithea however, it only made her pause for a few seconds before she ventured inside.

Her nerves weren't at all helped by the random noises that echoed throughout the tower. A small squeak escaped Lysithea before she could recognise the sharp noise as the creaking of the stairs beneath her. It took a gentle slap to her cheek before she could continue; there was nothing wrong with those sounds, it was just the person she had been following. It would've been even worse if they hadn't made any sounds as they ascended the Goddess Tower.

Once she reached the top, she found her mysterious silhouette illuminated by the light of the window, staring out across a starry night and the beauty that was the Monastery's surroundings. A bright smile appeared on Lysithea's face; it was no mysterious drunkard at all.

"Professor?"

"Actually, I'm a ghost."

Lysithea screamed when Byleth suddenly appeared far too close for comfort, jumping back like a frightened kitten. No man should have the ability to move so quickly nor silently, Lysithea pouting as she tried to recollect herself.

"D-don't toy with me like that Professor! I know it's you!" Lysithea struggled to say, her moment of indignation soon softening as she calmed. "I figured you might've been lost or something, so I followed you inside. Everyone seemed to be looking for you. You're surprisingly popular."

Indeed, Byleth had been the star of the show the moment that Claude had drawn him onto the dance floor. It was clear that he lacked any education in the art form, the Golden Deer leader trying his absolute best and failing miserably at teaching Byleth on the spot. Not that it had been a detriment to his reputation – far from it, the earnest, yet clumsy movements that contrasted so much with his form in battle had earned him quite a few admirers.

"That surprises you?" Byleth asked, folding his arms. From any other, one might take his gesture as a sign of offence, but his students had grown aware enough to tell it was merely his form of backchannelling.

"I do find it surprising, yes. Especially your popularity with the ladies." Lysithea noted with her fingers upon her chin in thought. "Not to be rude, but I wouldn't exactly call you the most sociable of people."

The only response was the smallest of shrugs. After his little show with Claude, Byleth had accepted anyone who invited him to dance – as a professor, it was part of his duty towards them to at least grant them attention when they asked for it. If there just so happened to be many girls who asked, then he didn't take any particular notice.

"How do you fare?"

"Er, I wouldn't know to be honest. I've never had much interest in such things." Lysithea admitted, her face falling for a second before she could school her features. She hoped that Byleth didn't catch the moment of weakness, but the man was far too perceptive for that to happen. "The Officer's Academy is for honing one's skills, not for frivolous romances, despite what the other students think. Have you heard them, Professor? They're all gossiping about a magical place where if a man and woman make a vow, it is certain to come to pass. I wonder where such a place is…"

"The Goddess Tower?" Byleth helpfully stated, Lysithea nodding emphatically.

"Oh, of course! I recall now!" the white-haired girl declared cheerfully.

A moment passed, Lysithea's happy expression frozen on her face as seconds ticked by. After what felt like forever, that happiness soon melted into confusion, followed by something indescribable as a horrific red blush took over her pale features.

"Wait, that's, that's here isn't it!?" Lysithea exclaimed, trying her best to cover her face. "Uh, just to be clear, this is pure coincidence! I didn't follow you so we could do… that! But, we are here alone… so people may probably wonder what our aim is. Let's get out of here before anyone sees us and gets the wrong idea!"

"There's no need to panic."

Byleth's arm upon Lysithea's shoulder immediately broke the girl out of her self-induced mania, her face returning to a healthier colour in seconds as pink eyes bore deeply into blue.

"…Professor? Are you saying that you don't mind if someone sees us and thinks…" Lysithea began before she truly looked at Byleth and sorrow took place upon her features. "Oh. I suppose you believe there's no danger of that, since it's just me. You're treating me like a child, aren't you?"

Byleth didn't have time to speak before his hand was thrown off her shoulder with a huff, Lysithea folding her arms with a petulant stomp of her leg. If any saw them at that moment, they would've melted at the sheer adorableness before them. "Well, I don't mind either then! _Obviously,_ nothing is going on here. If _you're_ going to stick around until we collect dust, then so will I!"

Lysithea's anger turned to silence once more, the girl turning away and planting herself firmly by the window.

It was at that moment when she realised that, despite her words, she wouldn't be able to last long. The soothingly frosty night breeze Lysithea had been enjoying before had decided to turn into something that would freeze her to the bone in good time. She tried stepping away from the window, but the Goddess Tower wasn't exactly the best insulated of areas, a shiver running down her back.

When a hit of warmth came to her back, Lysithea let out a sigh of relief, only to realise just what the source of the heat was. Turning around with reddened cheeks, Lysithea found herself staring at Byleth, sans the coat often found on his form. It didn't take a genius to tell where _that_ had gone.

"You are cold. I shall take you back to the ball." Byleth decided, holding a hand out to Lysithea who could only blubber and sputter before any proper reply came to her lips. "Take my hand."

"A-Are you an idiot!? If we walk back in there hand in hand with me wearing your coat, we'll be doomed!" Lysithea cried out, only to slam a hand over her mouth in embarrassment at the slightly raised eyebrow. "I'm sorry Professor, I shouldn't have said that to a professor."

"You leave me no choice. If we stay, you will freeze." Byleth declared, her moment of vulnerability ripe for the professor to take advantage of. Not even a second passed for Lysithea to rebut before she was hefted over his shoulder and they were making their way down the tower stairs.

It wasn't as if Lysithea wasn't fighting back. No, she was kicking and screaming for the blue-haired man to put her down from the moment that she realised what Byleth had done. It was just that it was too awkward to put her down while they were still on the stairs, meaning that Byleth was forced to endure the punches to his back until they exited the Goddess Tower.

Conveniently, Lysithea followed her professor quietly after that.

* * *

In the end, it wasn't as if anyone even noticed them returning to the ball, too entranced by the dancefloor and food to acknowledge their return. The only one who even looked in their direction was Claude, a small wink before he returned to his conversation with Dimitri and Edelgard.

"Professor." Greeted one of the staff, Byleth taking two of the offered drinks before the woman could walk off and giving them a small sniff. Call him paranoid, but it always helped to check for any foreign substances; there were far too many stories that had arose in the mercenaries from those who failed such a check.

"Here," Byleth said, passing the small glass to Lysithea who accepted it eagerly. At least until she took her first sip and immediately gagged, nearly dropping the drink as she turned to the professor. "Is it not to your taste?"

"…Professor, this is the wine, not the juice." She accused, met with Byleth's blank stare as she rolled her eyes. "Professor, that means it's just for the older students. Did you think they'd allow someone like me to have any?"

"Yes. It is normal in some places." Byleth explained simply, pausing to take a sip of his own drink. "There are villages less privileged. Their water sources are dirty, and they do not have access to medicine. Their life expectancies are lower, so they care less about age restrictions. It was how I was introduced to alcohol."

"That… that sounds horrible." Lysithea muttered with a shake of her head. There surely couldn't be a place as horrible as Byleth described.

Though she wasn't the most travelled of people, Lysithea had visited many different areas throughout Fodlan and not one suffered as bad as the professor had described. If there were such places, surely the nobles in charge of the territory they were in would do something, if to save their reputation if nothing else.

She had said so to Byleth, bringing forth a small scoff, a rarity from the man.

"You are a noble. Nobles do not go to places like those. Most nobles do not _care_ about places like those." Byleth answered. "They do not produce many resources. They do not provide a service to the nobles. Therefore, they are expendable. But that is not important. We are here to enjoy ourselves."

"Yeah." Was all Lysithea could say in return, absently watching the students in an attempt to get the thoughts out of her mind.

So long as it was just for a single night, she could pretend that the world wasn't suffering, right? That there weren't people in power purposefully ignoring their duties as nobles simply because the people in those horrific positions couldn't do anything in return?

With one glance down to the cup, Lysithea took a long draw, trying to ignore the intensely bitter taste that ran through her mouth and heated the back of her throat. While there were hints of the sweetness the grape juice had held, the potency held in even a small amount of alcohol seemed to completely ruin it.

Hopefully, the tales she heard were true and it would help her relax with time.

"You are troubled." Byleth's voice spoke up beside her, pink eyes peering at the hand that was held out once more. "It is my fault. Allow me to distract you."

"Are you asking me to dance Professor?" Lysithea returned, hoping that her flustered surprise wasn't too evident within her voice or upon her face. Even after all of that, Byleth still wanted to dance… in front of everyone… together… "There are some people who would talk if they saw you dancing with a girl as young as me, even if you are a professor."

"I have been dancing with everyone. They will not care." Byleth said.

Well, it certainly explained who the mysterious man that Marianne had been so enamoured with was. Actually, that hadn't explained _why_ Marianne had been so happy in the Professor's arms. Lysithea made note of that in the recesses of her mind – perhaps a little playful blackmail for the future.

With that stray thought, a tentative smile appeared on the white-haired girl's face as she graciously accepted the hand offered, letting the older man lead her out onto the dancefloor. So long as he had been seen dancing with everyone, no one would take it in the wrong manner then.

She expected to have to lead Byleth, her lithe toes constantly tread upon as the man struggled with such an elegant art as he had done so with Claude.

And yet to her pleasant surprise, Byleth showed none of the awkwardness he had demonstrated, smoothly transitioning from one step to the other with all of the grace of a trained noble. Where before he had stumbled, now the blue-haired man nimbly moved; where he had gone the wrong way, he now gently guided Lysithea without any prompting on her part.

"How did you learn to dance so quickly?" Lysithea asked as they continued to waltz, the smallest speck of jealousy appearing at the bottom of her heart. "If I had been able to learn so easily, I wouldn't have had to embarrass myself before my tutors so often."

"I am a fast learner. Hilda praised my dancing. Leonie, not so much." Byleth muttered, scratching the bottom of his cheek before returning his hand to Lysithea's waist. Lysithea merely giggled in response.

It wasn't as if Leonie and Byleth were on bad terms per se, but there was a definite one-sided rivalry occurring between them. No doubt Leonie had been rather proud to learn that the professor was a bad dancer – it added to the few areas where she beat Byleth, alongside socialising and… well, that was about it

* * *

Though she didn't realise it, time quickly flew by as the two of them danced, quite a few lamenting the fact that they wouldn't be able to steal a dance of their own with the blue-haired man. The rest of the evening was spent with the pair barely even focused on moving, naturally sliding around the dancefloor while they chatted, only breaking for food.

It was never openly discussed, not with those mentioned at least, but it was clear that what once only appeared to be a professorial obligation had become something more that night. Though Byleth and Lysithea left separately, the professor remaining behind to ensure no stragglers remained after the ball, speculation ran amok about whether there had been any… meetings the rest of Garreg Mach had been unaware of.

Eventually, those rumours would come to meet the ears of Lysithea herself, whose only answer consisted of silence before incredibly flustered denials mixed with a series of pathetic whines, her pale face turning redder than anyone could've imagined. Naturally, that only served to spur the rumour mill further, much to her displeasure.


	6. Having a blast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In his free time, Byleth finds himself exploring new potential weapons and techniques too dangerous to involve the students with. It's only natural then that one of the most inquisitive would find herself embroiled in the situation. Well, perhaps it's better to say forced her way into it...

The light taps of chalk against a blackboard filled the room, a calming ambient noise that Byleth was slowly growing to like. It would never match the soothing sounds of a crackling fire, nor did it occupy the mind like some of the tunes the students were singing did, but it allayed the silence of solitude well enough.

Byleth paused momentarily to gaze over his musings, faced with an admittedly poor diagram surrounded by so many thoughts as to be partially illegible. That was simply what happened when you just wrote down everything that came to mind, he supposed. He could refine the details later when he was certain that his mental tirade was going anywhere useful.

A low hum escaped the professor as he reached to his side, the rubber wiping away the nonsensical to be replaced by the practical. Even if what Byleth was attempting wasn't exactly normal, he was a mere mortal; there were limits to what human hands could hope to create.

"Professor? What are you still doing here?" a voice spoke from behind, Byleth turning to see the youngest student with a candle in hand. Had it gotten so late already? "You weren't present for the evening meal. Seeing as you're always there eating with everyone, I thought I should check on you."

"Lysithea. Do not worry. I was merely lost in thoughts." Byleth replied softly, placing down his utensils and dusting himself off. Nothing helped the mind collect itself more than a distraction.

"All alone?" Lysithea replied, a small pinch extinguishing the tiny flame in her hands as she entered the classroom, the light of the torches surrounding more than adequate compared to the tiny candle she had hastily prepared. "What are you working on that needs so much attention? No offence Professor, but even as a teacher, I never took you for the solitary academic type."

"No, you are correct." Byleth was quick to reply.

Compared to the rambunctious noise of students chatting and eating he had become accustomed to during his stay at Garreg Mach, the classroom was almost stifling in its silence. If it weren't for the fact that it would be remiss of him to leave the Monastery, Byleth would've no doubt decided to seat himself in an open field with a campfire, surrounded by good friends that he could bounce his ideas off. With no fires to be held in the gardens and everyone busy when he began his work, Byleth had simply settled for working alone in the classroom instead.

"I am creating an explosive."

"E-excuse me?"

"I have been researching methods to enhance our effectiveness in combat. Methods to counter weaknesses." Byleth explained, an arm gesturing loosely to the blackboard and the ridiculous amount of writing upon it. "Plan number twenty-four is utilising explosives."

"But… we already use explosives." Lysithea rightfully pointed out, tilting her head with visible confusion.

Being one of the main magic practitioners of the Golden Deer, Lysithea was the one who had used them the most, in fact. Whenever the situation had called for it, it had always been her flames that had ignited the fuses, the barrels quickly pushed towards whatever insurmountable enemy was in their way so they could eviscerate all in a large radius.

"Indeed. However, I want to expand their utility. As they are, they require men to move the carts. Their weight restricts their movement. They produce a large target for enemy magic users. They are only good for monsters and demolition." Byleth countered with a shake of his head, Lysithea bringing her fingers to her chin in thought.

"Well, I suppose that isn't incorrect… but I don't see why we would use it for anything else." The white-haired girl muttered. "If enemies are targeting it, then we already have people protecting the payload and monsters don't tend to target the explosives even when they're in close range."

"That is true. However, I want to make an explosive viable for archery." Byleth said, stepping over to the board. "An explosive that can be used by anyone. Easily mounted on an arrow. Detonated with contact or a timer. It would bolster the strength of the archers with fewer drawbacks."

It was an… interesting idea in Lysithea's eyes. If a non-magic user wished to ignite explosive barrels, they would need to have some sort of fire source and they were woefully hard to bring into a battlefield. If explosives could be activated by other inclusive means, then they would be far easier to utilise on a greater scale.

"I see, then it would allow archers to deal with more heavily armoured units or ruin shields," Lysithea said, a momentarily gleam entering her eyes. "A timer would be better; contact detonation would be quicker to deploy, but you risk someone blowing themselves up with a particularly harsh bump."

Byleth didn't answer, merely reaching for his rubber and scrubbing off 'contact' from the blackboard. It didn't make much of a difference to the rambling mess, but it was a start to refining his thoughts.

"Now that I think about it… I remember reading something that might help you with this. I can get it for you now!" Lysithea began, only for both her steps and face to falter before she even got to the door. "…Except the library's closed because it's already so late. How irritating. Well, I can probably still look over your ideas and see what's reasonable or not. Everything's easier with two heads after all-"

"You have shown me it is late. There is no point proceeding. I shall retire for the night. See that you do as well." Byleth stated, stretching slightly as he went to extinguish the torches surrounding.

"But wait, Professor! Surely you can't just stop now, not when there's the potential to make good progress!" Lysithea quickly protested, but the professor did not halt in his job, the classroom slowly growing as dark as the sky outside. "What if you go to sleep and forget what we just talked about?"

Her argument was enough to make Byleth pause before the final torch could be extinguished, a smug smile appearing on her face as he went back to the blackboard to pick up the chalk.

That smug smile was naturally destroyed when all Byleth did was write 'ask Lysithea' before summarily walking away, leaving the white-haired girl blinkingly owlishly in the darkness.

"It is better to rest and recover than to carry on and potentially make mistakes. That could get you killed on the battlefield. Good night Lysithea."

"Hmph, how rude," Lysithea muttered with folded arms before a curious smile appeared on her face. After all, while Byleth might not have the precision to light a delicate fire that wasn't meant to burn a man alive, she did. The lit candle now sitting before the blackboard was proof of that. "But, it won't hurt anyone if I have a little look at his work, right? I've always wanted to see what a professor's research is like. If I'm lucky, I might help him make a breakthrough…"

* * *

Byleth returned early the next morning, the sun still rising from its sleeping place as he made his way to the classroom. It wasn't a necessity, all Sundays being days off from work, but Byleth's dangerous lifestyle of the past would have him wake no later.

Thank goodness he had though, for it meant he was the only one to witness a blackboard far fuller than before, a completely melted candle and Lysithea blissfully dosing away with the desks as a makeshift bed. From the chalk that stained her hands and now her clothes from where she had moved through her slumber, it was clear what had occurred.

Byleth gave a near silent sigh as he moved to the blackboard. Though Lysithea never was one to act out against the authorities, she was spirited and curious to a fault. With how engaged she had appeared before, it was only natural that leaving her would make her act in such a way.

He couldn't deny that her work was something to look at, however. Even as tired as she must've been, Lysithea had left note after note next to his scribbles, additions to improve his designs or reasons as to why such things would fail to work in her respectful, yet somewhat sharp tone. The amount of progress she had made was to be respected.

Which was why Byleth, to wake his student, decided to send a sharp blast of wind in her direction.

With an inelegant yelp, Lysithea found herself rolling off the desk, landing face-first onto the unforgiving stone. Fortunately, though the landing wasn't what you would call painless, both professor and student were somewhat learned in the art of healing magic, meaning that Byleth was able to ease whatever injuries might've appeared.

"What the-!?" Lysithea sluggishly began, only to realise her the harsh classroom was not her bedroom and the teacher watching patiently was not some sort of perverted intruder. "Oh, Professor… it seems as if I've stayed here longer than I expected."

"I thought I told you to sleep," Byleth stated with folded arms, Lysithea unwilling to meet his eyes as an innocent whistle came from her lips.

"Well, I technically _did_ sleep Professor." Lysithea weakly reasoned before her face fell slightly. "I'm sorry. Some of the things you were suggesting just seemed so strange and yet functional with just a little bit of tweaking, I just couldn't help myself. I mean, I don't even recognise a whole portion of the concepts you were talking about!"

She wilted further under the professor's look, Byleth giving a tiny sigh. The reasons behind her decision were somewhat acceptable; he had stolen ideas from all his travels and some of them were better classed as esoteric, perfect for the curious intellectual. He could easily imagine Annette doing the same thing had he overseen the Blue Lions.

"I have no choice. You will have to be punished. You disobeyed my orders." Byleth muttered, his eyes narrowing in Lysithea's direction. "On the battlefield, you could die. Orders are given for a reason – whether it be your health or your survival."

"Of course, Professor. I understand."

"As punishment, you will be assisting me with my research. If you had any plans for today, cancel them. If you had plans with someone, apologise and send them to me." Byleth quickly continued, peering at the blackboard with a short nod. "I will expect you at the entrance gate. Clean up and meet me there."

And in the span of a second, Lysithea perked up incredibly, rising to her feet with a miraculous level of energy.

"R-right!"

Seeing her enthusiasm as Lysithea rushed off to prepare herself for the day, Byleth let the smallest of smiles appear on his face before it was immediately wiped off, just in time for the newest arrival to enter.

"Come on, really? You're going to pretend that was anything close to a punishment?" Jeralt asked with a smirk as he leant against the doorway. Byleth merely shrugged in response.

"I don't do detention."

* * *

Those in the market wouldn't question the sudden mass purchasing that Byleth underwent; it wasn't odd for professors of the Officer's Academy to suddenly require large volumes of equipment and considering how little he had purchased before, it was about time for Byleth to restock. The fact that he had Lysithea eagerly following behind him was practically ignored as well, especially when it was explained to be a part of her 'punishment'.

Well, people did question what on earth someone like Lysithea could do to earn a punishment, but they quickly had a chuckle at the censored story to the white-haired girl's embarrassment.

What it meant was that both professor and student were left with an incredible amount of materials and nobody realising their true intentions. As they were, it was hard for the common man to understand how they could be put together in any meaningful man.

Then again, neither Lysithea nor Byleth could be considered common. One had learned more than any girl of her age had any right knowing about explosives after her extensive impromptu research session. The other had been taught how to fashion items out of makeshift parts for years to desperate situations both financial and fatal. Together, they were a potent combination.

One would be forgiven for believing their roles were reversed; with their equipment in hand, they naturally fell into a rather comfortable routine with Lysithea reading off their notes and Byleth giving them material form. Sure, it may have resulted in the professor receiving more than a fair few explosions to the face, but they were loath to imagine how much worse it would be with someone less skilled with their hands.

By the time they eventually paused, the sun had passed far across the sky and they had undoubtedly missed a meal. They were fortunate enough that Byleth had the initiative to purchase some snacks, apples in hand as they gazed upon their handiwork.

"It… certainly doesn't look like much." Was all Lysithea had to say as she looked on, struggling to hold herself back from picking it up for closer analysis.

After all, one of their creations looked no different from your typical arrow, save for perhaps the faintest of patterns decorating the arrowhead. Then again, under normal circumstances, it quite literally was just a normal arrow and it would feel and fly as such.

"We have yet to test this version. It may not work." Byleth muttered, carefully taking the shaft of the arrow between his fingers and reaching for the burn marred bow that sat at his side. Though it had faced much in the way of tribulations, it still had one more shot left in it at least.

Drawing back the battered bow's string, Byleth let his finger gently glide onto the small circle upon the side of the arrow's wood, the smallest iota of magical energy pouring through his fingertip into the projectile while he aimed. It was such that even the weakest person magically would be able to mimic the action.

The result was the smallest veins of rich pearlescent light that began to crawl towards the arrowhead, several intricately designed runes decorating the metal soon aglow with power as Byleth steadied his shot.

It wouldn't give him long. They had messed about with the timing to make sure there was enough time to aim before the arrow exploded but had originally come up short every time.

While it was far easier to handle timing with the bomb-tipped arrow, the altered arrowhead meant that the flight path was too messed up to be easily integrated into the current archers' quivers. If the timing worked, then their current option would be far superior in all aspects.

The arrow flew and the world changed.

The problem was that they had needed a way to form a sufficiently large enough explosion from the smallest amount of magical energy possible. Their current solution had come late in Lysithea's all-nighter when she chanced upon a book that told of ambient energy within the air and how certain runic arrays could be modified to absorb said power into vessels or rituals. It had been a godsend.

The book failed to explain just how sensitive the absorption rune was, however, meaning that when Lysithea had Byleth etch it into their prototype, neither were aware of just how much energy it had absorbed from the air as it flew towards the target.

A fierce roar shook the earth as a wave of blinding flame flew towards them. Lysithea was fortunate enough that Byleth was able to shield her before the full force of the explosion rocked her world, burning heat blasting against her skin as they collapsed to the ground. Compared to the noise the explosion caused, her cry of alarm was easily drowned out.

* * *

Once her sight returned, Lysithea let out a small groan, rubbing her eyes as she wormed out of Byleth's hold. The act required a little bit of force; though the danger had disappeared, it seemed that the blue-haired man was reluctant to release her.

Except when Lysithea did break out, it was made clear that it was through no conscious effort on Byleth's part; staring at the scorched skin exposed to the open air on Byleth's back and the singed hair that marred his head, there was no doubt the pain had caused the Professor to pass out.

"Professor…?" the imperial voice that spoke behind her caused Lysithea to immediately freeze; there were none who would fail to recognise that tone even in its anger. "Lysithea Von Ordelia… just what is going on here!?"

"Archbishop Rhea…!"

Lysithea found herself momentarily lost for words. In the recesses of her mind, she was all too aware that neither of them had done anything wrong, but to try and claim such a thing while cradling her professor's horribly burnt body after a massive explosion that had decimated their target and much of the earth behind it would spell her death.

Instead, she felt whatever response die in the back of her throat, Lysithea merely letting her mouth flap uselessly until she felt both Claude and Hilda help her to her feet so Marianne and all the other quickly gathered healers could attend to Byleth.

"W-we were e-experimenting…" the girl eventually managed to pitifully spit out, only the smallest of gestures from her house's leader showing that she had been heard. After all, most were too busy returning to wherever they had been drawn from, gathered as a hasty defence to a non-existent threat.

Though the truth of an experiment gone seriously wrong would slowly make its way around Garreg Mach, the rampant and far juicier rumours that were bound to form gained traction far quicker. While many were already slightly fearful of Lysithea's capacity for destructive magic, news of what occurred only made such fear worse and open.

Needless to say, the project was never returned to.


	7. Teaching the tutor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lysithea has made an attempt to enter the world of tutoring, only to find her efforts fall flat. Who else can she turn to in her moment of need than one of the best teachers she knows?

" _If you look to the history books of Fodlan, you'll see that those who demonstrate relative skill in both physical and magical combat in equal measure will often be classed as a Mortal Savant. For people more heavily specialised in white magic, however, who are relatively lacking in stamina and physical strength, it is instead recommended that you take the form of a Holy Knight. This means you can counter your low-speed and lack of strength with the momentum and power of the horse, making lance-based attacks much more viable so you can conserve your energy for healing."_

Marianne stared down at the textbook hopelessly, absently listening to Lysithea's seemingly unending lecture.

The blue-haired girl knew full well that it was a lecture she needed; with all that plagued her mind, concentration was a grave issue and her grades weren't exactly where they could have been. Marianne had been the one to ask Lysithea to help, it would have been needlessly selfish to not listen.

It just didn't help that no matter how it was explained by Lysithea, it seemed not to stick in her mind. Too often did Marianne find herself distracted or simply unable to grasp the ideas presented to her. It was the reason why they were currently in Lysithea's room rather than her own, for the white-haired girl had taken one look at the mess within and declared it unsuitable for teaching.

"… Marianne? Marianne, are you even listening?" Lysithea's exasperated voice called out to her, Marianne startling slightly as she straightened up her posture as best she could. It did little to stop the weathering side that escaped her pseudo-teacher. "Right then, it's clear that this tutoring session isn't going to work. Let's stop for now, I should have some treats stashed away in here somewhere."

Of course Lysithea had sweets, there wasn't a moment where Lysithea _didn't_ have sweets, Marianne fought to a self. Well, there were moments, but it was fairly obvious when they came around, for the youngest student of Garreg Mach became far more easily annoyed until her stocks were restored.

Before too long, a wide array of biscuits and desserts were spread out between them. Marianne's eyes opened wide – though she wasn't exactly someone well versed in her sweets, the cakes that came from Enbarr were infamous for both their incredible price and an incredible amount of sugar. For Lysithea to have attained them, she must have spent a pretty penny.

"Aren't you going to eat, Marianne? I didn't put them out just so I can eat them all." Lysithea asked, though anyone who walked in at that moment could have been easily fooled. Barely a moment had passed since they had even begun, yet Lysithea had somehow already devoured half of her slice and though she hid it well, was already searching for more.

"… This is all so expensive… I couldn't eat anything that cost you so much." Marianne weakly protested, continuously glancing down at the sugary delights. "I asked you to help me and I wasn't even able to absorb what you told me. To be such a bad student and then eat your expensive sweets just isn't right."

"So, you're still talking like that…" Lysithea muttered with a shake of her head. Marianne was a close friend, but that didn't stop Lysithea from occasionally being exasperated by her personality. "Don't worry about the price, the price doesn't matter. Besides, I got this cake from Edelgarde; it's free, eat away."

"You got these cakes from Edelgarde? Then I really shouldn't be eating them, they are gifts specifically for you!" Came the immediate retort, Lysithea having to hold back her hand from palming her face.

"And I'm gifting it to you right now. Come on, just eat one at least! Once you've eaten one, you won't be able to stop yourself from eating more!" The white-haired girl urged, one step away from shoving the forkful of cake into Marianne's mouth herself.

Fortunately, before any accidents could occur through the misuse of cutlery, Marianne sheepishly parted her lips and let the dessert pass through.

Almost immediately, the implements rush of nearly pure sugar entering her mouth hit Marianne like a truck, the girl recoiling slightly in surprise as her tongue tried to get used to the sweetness. Still, through the haze of the heavy sweetness, the slightest hints of fresh fruit burst forth for an explosion of refreshing flavour. The cake itself was sweet beyond anything, the fruits worked hard and sharp; together they bounced into a beautiful medley well deserving of the title 'best cake in the Empire.'

Lysithea's prediction was correct – after that first mouthful, it didn't take long for the rest to be devoured.

* * *

Lysithea was deep in thought as she strolled around the grounds of Garreg Mach; it wasn't an unfamiliar sight and those which bumped into her before knew full well it was easier to just walk around her than try to face her wrath. It wasn't as if she had a particular destination in mind, having passed the pond and stables until she found herself standing in the gardens.

The only reason Lysithea noticed that was because she got a good look at her surroundings as she fell, the man she had bumped into being the only reason her head hadn't smacked against the cold stone.

"Lysithea, constant vigilance. With the potential for traitors in Garreg Mach, do not let your guard down." Byleth warned as he helped his student up, the professor dusting off her clothes like a concerned parent. The act brought a petulant pout to Lysithea's face, but I didn't stop her from standing still while Byleth doted over her. "You seem concerned. What ails you?"

"Ah, Professor. I was hoping I would come across you on my travels." Lysithea explained as the pair seated themselves at one of the open tables. Byleth didn't seem to care, but Lysithea had to make a pointed effort to ignore the gentle whispers that picked up in the surrounding groups. For some reason, they always seem to start up whenever Lysithea was with Byleth. "You see, I've been trying to help teach Marianne, tutor her, but I just can't seem to get the information across in a way that she understands. You're the most unorthodox teacher I know, so if there's anyone who can come up with some weird eccentric method, it has to be you."

Byleth let a single eyebrow raise at Lysithea's terminology, but it must be noted that he didn't deny anything. Instead, the blue-haired man allowed his eyes to flutter shut for the briefest of moments, only for them snap wide open.

"What kind of learner is Marianne?" he suddenly said.

"…I'm not quite sure what it is you mean, Professor," Lysithea answered, tilting her head slightly in confusion. It was a wise decision too, for she would've been met with a face-full of wind that ruffled the flowers behind her. The tiny movement wasn't enough to entirely avoid the attack however, Lysithea forced to spit out strands of her now heavily messed up hair. "Professor, this is becoming a disturbingly recurrent thing and I don't like it."

"Everyone has different ways of learning. Some people prosper in classrooms, others do better on the battlefield." Byleth stated in answer. "You learn better from books. Raphael learns better in combat. Ignatz learns better through set exercises. Leonie learns better through mimicking instructors. To be an appropriate teacher, you must understand your student."

* * *

_And with a flick of the man's hands, the many sheets of paper upon his desk went flying through the air, landing perfectly on each student's desk. Lysithea only had to pick up her own work to realise just how much of an impressive move it was; each person had been given a specific combination of work tailored to their abilities, all organised simply through the use of wind magic. If one or two had been right, then it could be a fluke, but every one had received the appropriate difficulty for their current skillset._

* * *

"I see… so you're saying that because I didn't tailor my work to Marianne as an individual I wasn't working to her strengths. That seems reasonable enough." Lysithea concluded with a nod, curious energy entering her pose as she leant forward on the table. "So what kind of learner is she Professor? Maybe I can start working on a better tutoring session."

"…If you wish to be a teacher, figure it out yourself. You have all the clues already." Came the blue-haired man's blunt reply, watching stoically as a grumpiness took place on Lysithea's face. "You sit next to her and have seen her work. You should be able to distinguish the differences to your own. I trust you to make the right decision."

Lysithea was left to splutter in confusion as Byleth abruptly began to take his leave, the comments of the surrounding gossip girls being the only reminder that he had been there at all.

It was an answer she should've expected; while Byleth was fully aware that she learned better through texts, it didn't stop him from much preferring practical exercises. Besides, the professor had been correct in his assumptions – Marianne often came to Lysithea to ensure a certain level of quality to her work and there had been certain differences she occasionally noted.

"Clues you say, Professor? Let's see… why don't we give this a try then?"

* * *

Marianne cautiously approached Lysithea's door, head held low as she rapped against the wood. She wasn't entirely sure why she had been summoned by her fellow Golden deer, but there had been an inexplicable aura of confidence and excitement to the girl that Marianne simply couldn't deny. If Lysithea was so excited, there had to be a good reason, right?

It was only natural then that Marianne grew apprehensive when she saw all of the lecture material sitting upon Lysithea's desk, said girl practically bouncing on the spot as she opened the door to greet her guest.

"Marianne, just in time! I think I've made a breakthrough!" the white-haired girl excitedly declared as she hurried Marianne to the bed. With how eager her movements were, Marianne bed he had a second to breathe before she was practically bombarded with tome after tome.

"Ah, I see…" Marianne answered, trying her best to hide her apprehension. She had struggled before, but the sheer volume of knowledge that Lysithea was pulling out was too much for anyone to handle. Even someone like Annette would be hard struck to read so much, that alone someone struggling as Marianne was. "I think you might have to explain this to me. I doubt that I could comprehend this much."

"No, not if I've done this right." Lysithea immediately denied, Marianne taken aback briefly. There was friendly encouragement, and then there was Lysithea's level of confidence in the blue-haired girl's ability. "If this works out as I've intended, then you'll be able to explain to me everything you struggled with last time!"

"Really? I struggled with quite a lot…" Marianne dejectedly said, her hands awkwardly fidgeting as her head fell. If one book hadn't been able to make Marianne understand, piling what seemed like one hundred more onto her surely was not going to help matters.

"Don't worry, these aren't your typical textbooks. Open them up, have a look!"

It was clear that Marianne wasn't going to persuade Lysithea otherwise, leading to the blue-haired girl hesitantly taking one of the books and taking a peek inside.

Imagine her surprise when, rather than be met with a wall of text just waiting to boggle Marianne's mind, she was met by a series of intricately detailed diagrams. The word count had been slashed ruthlessly, the largest amount of text that could be found being a mere introductory paragraph for each chapter. Otherwise, the only words were precise and concise annotations dotted around each diagram.

"This is…! Lysithea, where did you get this?" Marianne asked in wonder as she found herself flicking through the pages, concepts that were once alien now displayed in a much more digestible manner.

"It wasn't exactly the easiest to get. I don't how the Professor does it… "Lysithea sighed in response, quickly shaking her head of any thoughts of the blue-haired man. "I tried checking all the vendors in the market, but they only seem to sell the typical textbooks. Luckily for me, they did have a lot of paper I could buy bulk and Ignatz wasn't doing anything, so we ended up just making all these ourselves."

"That's amazing. I don't think I could ever do anything like this." Marianne said, a smile appearing on her face as she slowly closed the book. "So you wrote all of the notes then? They're a lot easier to understand than the textbook. Maybe you should think about becoming a textbook writer Lysithea."

"I… Really shouldn't." Lysithea's response came out as little more than a disgruntled mutter, a tinge of crimson embarrassment appearing on her pale skin as Marianne made a sound of confusion. "… I figured that if I was going to write a new textbook rather than use one of the old ones, I might as well try and reduce all of the more technical language to something a bit more manageable. Anytime I wanted to explain something, I tried to explain it to Ignatz and cut it down any time he didn't understand. I… had to do quite a lot of cutting."

Marianne couldn't help it; the giggles came to her without warning and she had no intention of stopping them. It was a sound decidedly rare, but certainly not unwelcome as the sweet noise echoed around Lysithea's room.

A pout may have come to Lysithea's face, but that didn't mean she was going to cut Marianne's mirth short. In fact, before long, the white-haired girl was laughing right alongside her friend.

"I-I, I'm sorry Lysithea. I just couldn't help myself." Marianne eventually managed to speak, her chuckles fading away to be replaced by a sense of embarrassment. "It sounds like you had a lot of fun making these. I still can't believe that you made them for me though. You definitely went through way too much work for someone like me."

"Of course I didn't. Marianne, you're my friend; you're one of the few people I _would_ go through all of this effort for." Lysithea immediately stated in return with a dismissive wave, Marianne lost for words as the younger gave a firm nod. "I would be a fairly bad friend if I said I would help you with your education and then left you even more confused, right?"

"…Thank you, Lysithea. I-I'll try my best to make it up to you somehow!"

"Don't worry about it, Marianne. If you want to make it up to me, ace the exam."

Needless to say, the lesson went far more successfully than their first, a combination of Lysithea's newly developed skill for teaching combined with the artistic talents of Ignatz allowing Marianne to practically blossom as well as any other student. Perhaps it was a little vain of her, but Lysithea couldn't help but feel a swell of pride at that – Marianne wouldn't have any problem with the coming exams if she kept up this kind of pace.

"Heh, the Professor was right after all." Lysithea mused to herself while her pupil was busy with her practice. Not that she ever doubted the man; Byleth had proven himself far too many times for any student of Garreg Mach to doubt his credibility. "With the way he spelt the clues out for me all those times, it was like he expected me to do something like this."

* * *

" _Lysithea, your assistance," Byleth called, the white-haired girl pausing from her return trip to the library to greet her superior._

" _Yes Professor?"_

" _Your work is entirely correct. I will assign a more difficult set of tasks next time. This means you're in the best position to help me grade your classmates' work." He spoke, swiftly turning on his foot before any answer could be given._

_A sarcastic answer threatened to burst forth, only for Lysithea to swiftly swallow it and follow along behind. It wasn't as if she was doing anything and she could use treat it like a sort of revision session of sorts. Maybe even pester the Professor for any questions that could pop into her head._

* * *

" _Tell me Lysithea. Are these questions suitable?" Lysithea looked up from the notes she had scrawled down during their tutoring session, faced with several pieces of paper that she quickly took and scanned. "These are intended for Hilda, Lorenz and Marianne."_

"… _Professor, they're good but they're all the same question phrased in different ways. You really should only use one of them." Lysithea warned as she leafed through the paper, handing them back to see the blue-haired man give a swift shake of his head._

" _I have more prepared for other topics. I intend to use all of these."_

" _Issues tended to appear on question eight and I will personally be going over the solutions with you individually." Byleth declared as he scribbled upon the blackboard, pointedly ignoring the sound of flesh hitting wood._

* * *

" _Urgh, question eight was so stupid!" Hilda groaned as her face met the desk, Lysithea tilting her head slightly as her fellow Golden Deer complained. "Why am I going to need to know to properly navigate a wooded area/ my darling wyvern isn't going to just smack into the trees like an idiot!"_

" _What? That wasn't question eight. Question eight as about how to avoid close combat encounters with heavy armours." Lysithea objected, only to be met by Hilda's confusion as well._

"… _Lysithea, that wasn't even a question. Marianne, what did you have for question eight?"_

" _Um, I just had to point out the mistakes in a lancer's stance…"_

* * *

"Heh. Thanks, Professor. Perhaps in a lost future, I could be as good a tutor as you."


	8. Do the cooking by the book

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lysithea aimed to make a gift for one of her friends, only for things to appear far more difficult than expected. Of course, the staff know who to call.

"Perhaps baking was a little more difficult than I anticipated…"

Such words were perhaps an understatement, what with the veritable disaster-zone sitting before Lysithea. One would think that with nought but kitchen ingredients, there was only so far you could go wrong. Considering that few students and staff remained after the catastrophe that was Lysithea's attempt at baking, such an assumption was clearly false.

"And I had been following the book's instructions to the tee… could it be that I used a faulty recipe book?" Lysithea pondered aloud, absently noting that she couldn't even see the book through the copious amounts of flour, egg and whatnot coating every surface of the kitchen. "It can't be, that's impossible. Annette wouldn't make fun of me like that."

The ginger-haired Blue Lion had promised that the book came from Mercedes herself. Annette may not have been the best in the kitchen, but surely a book recommended by the Goddess of Sweets wouldn't steer Lysithea wrong, right? No, Lysithea had flicked through several pages and her mouth salivated at the memory of Mercedes offering some of the treats depicted to her. The book could not be blamed if it could produce sweets as great as those.

Admittedly it wasn't as if Lysithea had been following the instructions _exactly_ per se. After all none of the cakes mentioned within fit the exact parameters Lysithea required and so she had made a few tiny alterations. Alterations so minute that there was no way they could cause such a chaotic result. At least, Lysithea had believed so.

Yet here she was, incredibly hot and plastered from head to toe in a viscous white substance.

Such a sight was what Byleth walked into, momentarily too distracted with the final scraps on his plate to hear the warnings of the staff standing awkwardly outside. Once the final piece of chicken entered his mouth and the professor finally did take a look at the horrific room, he merely allowed a single eyebrow to raise.

"Flayn. Annette. Lysithea. A combination of those." He dully called out.

"Um… just me Professor." Lysithea pathetically called out, nervously shuffling into sight after trying her best to cull the flame in the oven. It did little to reduce the heat in the room, her skin a healthy crimson colour as Lysithea desperately tried to remove all traces of the sticky substance covering it. "Just trying out a new experiment… that didn't go exactly as planned."

"… An experiment that has you looking like that?" Byleth muttered as his eyes narrowed, Lysithea's already red skin blushing even further with his next words. "Sylvain. If you're there, I'll kill you."

"Wha-!? No, Professor! This is just flour and milk!... I think. I hope." Lysithea immediately cried out, brandishing a bowl full of the stuff for emphasis. "Oh, I just wanted to bake a cake without any sugar in! Is that so difficult to do!?"

"A cake without sugar? Why?" was all Byleth replied with Lysithea awkwardly hesitating before providing her answer.

"Well, you see…"

* * *

" _Mmmm! Ahh yes! These are the moments I live for!" Lysithea sighed as she sank into the corner of the training grounds._

_It wasn't the most comfortable of areas, but it mattered little when the comfort of a chocolate cake from the Kingdom was Lysithea's. it also helped that there was little reason for anyone to loo in such a secluded corner; the likelihood of anyone sparring was minimal from her research and there was equipment that was commonly used. It was perfect for remaining unseen._

" _I don't understand you."_

_Which was why it was such a horrific shock to Lysithea when Felix's voice suddenly spoke up. How he could have moved so silently, especially when there was only the two of them, Lysithea wasn't sure. Regardless, it was enough to nearly make the white-haired girl throw her cake away in surprise._

" _You again?! Can't you see I'm busy?" Lysithea yelled, scrambling to save her dessert before it could be ruined. Shocked she may be, it would be a travesty to let a good cake go to waste._

" _Trust me, I didn't mean to interrupt," Felix replied with folded arms and a roll of his eyes._

_It wouldn't be difficult to take those words as sarcasm, but from what Lysithea had heard about the Blue Lion, it was pretty much his default tone. Acknowledging that and not being offended by it were two very different things, however._

_Brushing his comment off with a small huff and a pout, a small memory flickered into Lysithea's mind. This wasn't the first time they had met after all, not even the first time they had met in such an awkward manner._

" _So, how did you like the cake? I bet you ate it, didn't you?" the white-haired girl eagerly asked, rubbing her hands together as she recalled the sweet treat she sacrificed to hide her secret. "I knew it was irresistible. What was the experience like? I'm curious, from a research perspective."_

_Her questions failed to pierce through at first though, Felix giving Lysithea a vacant glare that set the hairs on her skin standing straight. It was only after a few minutes did he seem to recall the incident, giving a small noncommittal sound._

"… _I don't know. I didn't eat it. I gave it to some kid." Felix dismissed, much to the horror of Lysithea._

" _You...gave it to some...undeserving child?!"_

" _We've been over this. I don't like sweets."_

_Now that was something that could not be allowed to go uncorrected. It was a simple mistake, one that she could allow the peasantry to make. For someone who had the money and freedom to taste cake, however? Such a statement was inexcusable._

" _Cake is not a 'sweet.' Cake is the divine essence of the heavens!" Lysithea hotly declared, not that it moved Felix in any way whatsoever._

" _Everyone has their own tastes." Was his simple reply._

" _That's true, but life without cake is no life at all. Your divisiveness regarding cake is inexcusable." Continued Lysithea regardless, her love for the sweet treats preventing her from ever giving up so easily. To be honest, the sheer fervours she showed was beginning to creep Felix out._

" _I'm not sure why you're so fixated on this." He questioned, taking a step back when Lysithea made to storm into his personal space._

" _I simply can't resist the spongy magnificence of cakes. I don't understand how you can be so dispassionate about it." The white-haired girl proudly declared in response, not a single ounce of embarrassment to her form. In fact, it was almost as if an aura had gathered around Lysithea, formed through sheer love for cake._

" _I don't know. I just don't like it." Felix muttered, promptly taking his leave._

* * *

"…So I decided to try and bake him something without sugar to show Felix that he can enjoy cake too." Lysithea concluded, acutely aware of just how much Byleth's eye twitched. Considering the usual mannerism of the man it could probably be equated to one step away from breaking point. "The only issue is, all of the cake recipes I had managed to get a hold of all required sugar. I tried to find an average between the ingredients and removed the sugar, but… you can see how well that went."

"…You can't just mash together ingredients. You'll create trash." Byleth replied after a pause, shaking his head as he reached for the nearest cleaning utensil… the nearest cleaning utensil that hadn't also been dirtied in Lysithea's experiments. "Every key ingredient has a special purpose. Understand that, and you know how to replace it. Detracting needlessly will just make a lesser product. Now, get cleaning. Then, we can try to bake."

"Of course Professor…"

Fortunately, what mess there was could be cleaned away with relatively little effort. The cleaning would've been finished far faster had the professor not suddenly decided to leave the kitchen and sit down, stubbornly refusing to continue. After all, what better punishment was there for making a mess than forcing the one responsible to clean most of it up?

Not that it didn't leave Lysithea huffing and puffing once she finally swiped away the final stain upon the walls. While she was finally getting used to the strain of wielding a sword it was still only a second option; her physical form remained incredibly weak still compared to her peers.

"Goo. Now we can begin proper." Byleth sharply declared, Lysithea lifting her head to see what would normally be quite the amusing sight - the blue-haired man, except he was now donning one of the spare aprons one of the staff had been kind enough to gift him. "You must follow my orders. A single deviation and you risk everything. To attain your goal, I must have your obedience. Together, we can conquer any challenge."

"…Professor, you do remember we're trying to bake a cake, right?" Lysithea pointed out meekly, her body involuntarily trembling from the sheer power oozing from Byleth. "W-we're not going to kill anyone. This is a cake. We're baking."

"It still applies." Byleth declared with all the authority of an army general before it was completely undone by the small cough that he gave after. "Plus, the staff have spoken. They will not allow you to bake without supervision. For the safety of us all, follow my instructions. What recipe did you use?"

"This one, Professor."

Byleth wasn't one who could call himself well versed in the art of baking. Abstract cooking, yes; he had prepared meals for the mercenaries multiple times and he hadn't received any complaints yet, but baking was something there was little reason to attempt out in the field.

Even so, Byleth could immediately recognise a glaring issue with Lysithea's methods, one that had said girl looking to her mentor in confusion.

"Lysithea. Where is this cookbook from?"

"Um, I got it from Annette, who said she got it from Mercedes. Beyond that professor, I'm not entirely sure. Why?" she replied after a moment's recollection, Byleth giving a small hum of acknowledgement before speaking.

"It is of Enbarr origin."

"…and that is a problem because…?"

Byleth sighed. If she was using recipes based on those from Enbarr, then it was only natural that she would fail.

"Enbarr uses sugar as a major flavour. Without sugar, you lose most of the taste. It severely messes with the ratio of other ingredients as well." The Professor explained, snapping the book shut with a loud noise and absently chucking it to the side.

It was the primary reason why they held such a divisive reputation with the people, even those of the Adrestian Empire. Nothing showed that better than the fact that Edelgard herself, the soon-to-be Empress of the Empire, couldn't stand the desserts that her own capital produced. The pleasures of a subtle sweetness or even the joy of an incredibly sugary candy was one thing, but to have so much sugar poured into a single cake would be considered a crime by most people.

"I…I guess…" Lysithea answered dejectedly, scuffing her foot against the floor. "I just assumed that if they were my favourite type of cake, then Felix would like them as well if I got rid of the sugar."

"Either way, we shall have to procure another recipe. These will not work well for our requirements." Byleth muttered, a hand reaching to his chin in thought.

There were plenty of places where he could find a recipe; Garreg Mach Monastery was a massive place with a huge amount of people to fill it. There were multiple examples of good cooks who could provide a recipe.

The only issue was, the monastery's cooks were now busy trying to remain on schedule and from what little he heard, the Blue Lions had decided to have a joint leisure trip. As the most adept chefs resided in that house and the actual chefs were busy there were few the blue-haired man knew were good cooks.

"…We have no choice. We shall simply have to procure a recipe book from the market." The professor decided, a hand discretely reaching down into his pocket and messing with his money pouch. "Anna will likely have some. I shall negotiate with her."

"You want to negotiate with Anna of all people? You do know she amuses herself with ripping off customers without them even realising it?" Lysithea warned.

After all, she had nearly been a victim of one of the redhead's schemes herself. If it hadn't have been for Ashe's quick intervention, her savings would be far lighter than they were now. Anna hadn't even been the slightest bit repentant about it either.

"Do not fear. I have ways to prevent such things." Byleth answered with the smallest of smirks, confidently striding out of the kitchen with Lysithea trying her best to keep up behind him.

Anna had decided to place herself under his command and that Byleth her direct superior. If it was a mere professor doing business with her, then perhaps anna might have been willing to risk her chances. Doing the same to her direct superior? Now that was something that required far too much greed and courage for just anyone to do. Yes, Byleth could get a discount for the recipe book, or worst-case scenario, at least purchase it at a reasonable price.

But let it be known that Anna was not a woman so easily dissuaded. The moment that Byleth turned up, her eyes immediately began to glow and her business sense burst to life. Byleth managed to get the recipe book he required, that was true, but the amount lost in the process… needless to say, Byleth had found a sizable dent in his funds after their deal.

* * *

"Felix! I've awaited this fated day!" Lysithea yelled as she caught sight of the swordsman, Felix giving a pointed sigh before the girl could enter hearing distance.

"You don't change. Still prattling on about it." The boy remarked sourly, unaffected by the pout that appeared on the younger girl's lips.

"Aw, come on. I just wanted to hear what you thought of the cake I gave you." She whined, gently bouncing from foot to foot in curiosity. Felix was taken aback momentarily; she was more serious about it than he could've expected.

"Uh... It was edible." Was the smartest reply he had to give. From the brief disappointment that appeared on Lysithea, it wasn't exactly what she was expecting.

" If by edible you mean incredible, then yes! I agree." Lysithea pushed and much to her surprise, it seemed as if something in Felix's mind had swayed, his answer quite the pleasant surprise.

"It was satisfying and lightweight. I imagine it would be quite useful as a battlefield provision." Felix eventually mused, a smile appearing on Lysithea's face; that was probably as close to a compliment as she was going to get. Didn't stop the slight annoyance from popping up in her heart.

" Please refrain from lumping delectable cake into the same category as provisions." She warned lightly, earning herself a scoff of disbelief from the boy.

"You're upset and I don't understand why," Felix replied incredulously. "I'm complimenting the cake. You cured my dislike of sweets. For that I thank you."

There was something about that statement that brought a swell of pride to Lysithea's breast. Her work… the work of the Professor and her, had managed to sway the heart of a non-dessert-eater. That was no simple feat.

"…You have an interesting way of giving compliments, but I'm glad you liked it." Lysithea said hoping that her joy wasn't too obvious on her face.

"Yes. Got any cakes on you?"

"You say that as though I just carry cake on me at all times!" jokingly cried out at the blunt request, pretending to be scandalised. Let it be known however that Lysithea was no actor, quickly breaking down from her haughty character. "Did you want some?"

"That's not what I meant. If you've baked a cake, however, I wouldn't object to eating a slice." Felix said, in perhaps the most adorable combination of cold distance and hidden embarrassment. It brought a giggle to Lysithea, one that only made Felix's face even worse before he could fully school it.

"If cake is what you want, you can just ask me directly." Replied Lysithea once her laughter was under control, reaching into her bag to pull out quite the number of treats. "It just so happens I have some of the cake I prepared before, special for you. You thought it was delicious and not overly sweet, right? I made sure I kept some behind in case you wanted more. Go on—take a bite!"

"Mmm."

"You love it! I can tell. Here, try this one out too!"

"Mmm."

And so it continued for who knows how long, Lysithea pulling out piece after piece for Felix to taste with a bright smile upon her face. If it had been anyone else, the same could probably be said for the one who was being fed. As it was, Felix had the tiniest of smirks pop up now and then.

" See! So amazing, huh? Just keep working on that sweet tooth of yours. Then we can share cake notes and eat cake together all the time." Lysithea smugly remarked, stowing away what few remains she had after their little feeding session. "That is... It just sounds nice is all."

"Mmm? OK. That does sound nice."

* * *

Unheard, Byleth stepped away from the door.

So, one of his students had a little crush. He wouldn't exactly call them an expected combination, but not an unwelcome one. Besides, what did Byleth know about romance? The heart worked in mysterious ways, or that was what they said at least. Perhaps he could work with Hannerman and Manuela, push them together subtly.

…Perhaps just Hannerman. Manuela was even worse than himself when it came to subtlety.


	9. Violent ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "But arise, what light through Gronder Field breaks? It is the east, and Lysithea is the sun! Arise, fair sun, and kill this envious moon." Two sides, both alike in dignity, in fair Gronder where we set our scene. From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.

Gronder Field was a magnificent place to behold. Not only was it significant for its history, but the area was simply beauty incarnate. It's position beside the Airmid River meant that the land was delightfully fertile and under the tender care of House Bergliez, the agriculture within Gronder Field was thriving. If one wanted evidence for the beauty of nature, one need look no further than Gronder Field.

Of course, only a fool would forget the rich legacy the area held. After all, the Battle of Gronder in the Imperial year forty-six was pivotal in turning the tide against the forces of Nemesis. Add the annual tradition of the Battle of the Eagle and Lion and Gronder Field was a place that had seen many battles. Many a great warrior revealed their true potential during those battles and it became common knowledge that those who excelled within the Battle of the Eagle and Lion would go on to be renowned heroes. Needless to say, Gronder Field was both a place of bespoke beauty and rich history.

It was a shame then that it was all burning down before Byleth's eyes.

It had not been his idea, far from it. The thought of destroying such an iconic and significant area with flame and force had been something Byleth eagerly argued against. It had been an ambush put into place without the professor ever realising, the culprit behind it most likely believing it to be for the 'greater good'. That's why Byleth never cared for politics; he could rant and rave about how horrible a plan was and how many alternatives could have a just as significant, if not more so, effect and be perfectly ignored.

But there was little time to ponder such a reality. Bodies were standing before him, bodies that needed to be slain and if there was one thing the Ashen Demon excelled at, it was slaying.

They probably thought that the numbers would protect them. No normal man would typically be able to take on three lancers at once and they weren't basic soldiers; they wouldn't have been brought to such an important battle if they had been so. With the experience that they had as well as their numeric superiority, they must've thought Byleth would die in less than a second.

Fools like them always made the most beautiful faces when they were bisected. The idiots had decided that simply attacking from three different points would be enough to secure a kill, meaning they weren't prepared for when Byleth dodged them all with barely any effort. Attacking all at once meant there was a humongous period of recuperation and the professor needed less than ten seconds of it to slice through the lancers' flesh.

The sound of arrows hitting steel rang out as Byleth parried every single one fired in his direction, the professor even having the gall to pluck one straight out of the air seconds before it would hit his eyeball. That very same arrow would find itself plunged into the neck of an archer, his throat torn asunder as Byleth's blade gutted another. As soon as you were in close combat of an archer, they fell like dominoes until Byleth plunged his sword through the head of the final one.

Byleth paused momentarily to think, absently reaching down to borrow one of the fallen archers' bows. He might have been doing all right, but how fared his allies? They weren't so practised and though Byleth had drilled as much as possible into their heads, it was completely different to take those tactics and techniques and utilise them in a real battle. He tried to thin the numbers as much as possible, but Byleth was not omnipresent; students he had once taught were now fighting for their lives.

Releasing the bowstring, Byleth watched apathetically as a Gremory was pierced through the heart, those surrounding flinching and crying out over her death. Unfortunately for them, that meant they compromise their defences and the opponents they were once on equal terms with were free to take their heads. With the interruption of a single arrow, five lives from the enemy's side were snuffed out. Five lives that weren't his students.

With only the slightest change to his facial features, Byleth brought his sword behind him, the dagger that would have easily pierced his flesh bouncing off harmlessly. From the force required to deflect it, a surprisingly strong arm was required to throw the dagger as efficiently as it was, a feat the professor couldn't help but acknowledge.

"Your physical capabilities have improved." He commented aloud, eliciting a small scoff of disdain from his enemy.

"Was it not you, Professor, who taught me that conversation on the battlefield was reckless?" She retorted, flames beginning to dance around her finger. She had always demonstrated incredible control over her magical ability; it was only natural that such skills would be refined with age. "You also told me that one should always fight for the right cause. Are you to contradict yourself twice, Professor?"

"What I do, I do the name of peace and sanity, Lysithea." Byleth retorted as he bought his blade to bear, the white-haired girl bringing her arms up in a combat stance in response.

"But not in the name of reason! Not in the name of logic!" Cried Lysithea, the beginnings of tears in her eyes as the flame surrounding her hands grew ever stronger. Byleth wasn't exactly standing that close, yet he could already feel the heat emanating from his once student. "You're going to say that all of this invasion and war will lead to peace? That following and obeying the orders of a madman will lead to sanity!? Professor, I know you're better than this, so why? Why must you slaughter innocents for the sake of some vendetta against the church?!"

"The church is not what it seems. They are the ones who slaughter innocents under the guise of punishing heretics. They are the organisation led by a madman. Fodlan belongs to humanity, yet so long as we allow Rhea free rein, it will lay in the hands of something inhumane."

Byleth's words were punctuated by a single step. He didn't raise his sword any further, nor did his face contort as if he were to attack. For all intents and purposes, it was no different than the man taking a stroll through a garden; such casual and lesion of the posture had no place on the battlefield.

So why was it that Lysithea's body refused to take advantage of it? Why was it that when he took a step forward, the white-haired girl couldn't help but take a step back? She was one of the greatest Gremories that the Leicester Alliance had to show in their forces, she didn't even need to get into close range to boil Byleth's organs or pierce him with the darkest of magic. So why did her body refuse to do so?

"… You were not made for war, Lysithea." Byleth muttered, and for the first time in the entire period the two had known each other, Lysithea heard sadness permeating every word. "You belong in an Academy or a bakery. You deserve a peaceful life after all the pain inflicted upon you. He deserved to be happy, at home with your family with your only care being what meal to put on the table. You're too wise and too pure to be sent to a battlefield like this."

"Professor… Are you calling me weak?" Lysithea retorted, but there was hardly any power behind her question. Rather than the fire intended, all that came out was pain, Lysithea not even trying to hide it this time. "I always knew I would have to put what you taught me to the test, I just never expected it to be against you. I won't hesitate."

"You will. And that's the best part." Byleth's blunt statement shattered any defences Lysithea put up, even the fire she had summoned snuffed out in her surprise. "You have a heart too large for battle."

Well, maybe that wasn't entirely true. Perhaps it was the tiny smile upon her professor's face that broke Lysithea's resolve, a smile so rare that to bring it out only when they were locked in conflict tore at the girl's heart. How was she meant to fight him when Byleth finally showed him a face like that?

"The sky is burning Lysithea. Cities are being turned to smoke and death, to song. Danger and injustice are plaguing this continent and most are blaming different people for it." Byleth explained, the two practically touching as the man approached step by step, the white-haired girl's body frozen until they were practically touching. "We shouldn't be fighting. There is no reason for us to fight, for any person on this battlefield to fight. Yet we must, for they defend an evil they have been blinded to. I haven't struck you down because I know you're smart enough to see the truth."

"…Then convince me, Professor." It was a whisper, but with how close they were, it made no difference; Lysithea might as well have been shouting. "Convince me as to why I should be following you through burning houses and slaughtered villages."

"I will, so long as you trust me." Was the man's resolute answer and after a moment's hesitation, Lysithea gave a firm nod.

Byleth had always been a man of virtue, fighting for the sake of eliminating evil within the world. Even when taking a position in Garreg Mach, he had always jumped on the opportunity to have their class deal with bandits and whenever a problem plagued his students, Byleth had always come up with a resolution. He wouldn't simply choose to back the actions the Adrestian Empire had taken without due reason, surely? No, save for his sudden siding with the Empire, Byleth had done nothing to warrant any suspicion from Lysithea; she was willing to hear him out.

It was why it was so surprising when she suddenly found a knife stuck between her ribs.

"Pr-Professor…?"

Byleth kept his eyes closed as he reached out, Lysithea's incredibly light body no issue for him to catch and carry. So long as he kept them closed, Byleth could pretend that he didn't see the look of betrayal that appeared upon her face, the pain both physical and emotional that displayed itself as he slipped the poisoned steel through her flesh.

There were… probably better ways of doing that. No, scratch that - there were hundreds if not millions of ways that could've been done better. This was the only way that would work in the current situation however; for the man to keep his promise to Lysithea, he would have to hurt her, just this once. So long as Byleth kept repeating that statement in his mind, perhaps it would eventually come true.

"Professor!" Edelgard would find her beloved teacher cradling Lysithea's body in his arms, an unreadable expression upon his face as he steadily turned to face her. "I was a fool to believe you injured… and yet, for the lack of wounds upon your body, I cannot imagine the pain you must be going through right now."

"I have killed many I knew. For many reasons. This is no different." Byleth answered, a blunt declaration with little remorse. "I have done what is necessary to reveal the truth."

The sheer bluntness of the statement caused Edelgard to wince; she had spent many a day trying her best to harden her heart for the coming battles, but the thought of killing fond classmates still whittled away at her resolve. For Byleth to respond so easily with so little emotion… it was exactly to be expected of the Ashen Demon's personality if Edelgard was honest with herself, but no less unsettling to the Empress.

"Very well, my teacher. We have managed to whittle away at their joined forces, the Leicester Alliance is near eliminated from the battle. If you join the front line, then I believe we have every chance of victory." The Empress began to explain, only for confusion to take root at the man's shaking head. "Is there an issue with that plan?"

"See for yourself." Was all Byleth had to say, pointing to the distance with Edelgard moving to look. "Both Claude and Dimitri are fleeing. The battle is already complete."

"They flee? I must admit, I did not expect them to be so unsure of their own armies." Edelgard muttered in response, surprise colouring her face momentarily before it was replaced by no small amount of relief. "No, it is clear that they have other plans hidden in their minds. It would not do me well to underestimate such esteemed opponents. Still, this is a victory under our name; we should take relief in that much and return to our allies."

"Understood." Byleth sharply replied, drawing a nod and a satisfied smile from Edelgard as she began to turn away. The hand that suddenly landed upon her shoulder put a sharp end to that though, Byleth's face softening slightly as he continued. "First, however, I must make a request."

"You have done much for us and our cause Professor. So long as it is within reason, then I shall do all I can to fulfil it."

"I wish to return Lysithea's body to her family, but… I do not believe I would be well accepted entering Leicester Alliance territory." The man began to explain, scratching the back of his head with the smallest amount of irritation upon his lips. "Therefore, I wish to bring it to Garreg Mach to be buried. If she can not be buried in her first home, then it would be appropriate for her to be buried in her second home."

"A…strange proposal, to be sure. What has you so convinced that her family would not venture out to recover her corpse themselves?" Edelgard questioned in return after a few seconds of contemplation. "And what of the others who have lost their lives in Gronder Field? Do you wish for us to return with them as well? We do not have the forces, or the forces willing at least."

"I have faith that the other families will be capable of returning. Together, they will have a strong enough force to risk travelling here so soon after conflict." Byleth reasoned as a hand made its way to his chin. "House Ordelia is not the same. Due to the family's history with the Adrestian Empire, they are currently viewed with suspicion by the rest of the Leicester Alliance and the Faerghus Kingdom. On top of that, they are a much-depleted family; they don't have the strength to recover their child's body."

"…I suppose by that reasoning, the other Leicester Houses will also not care for finding Lysithea's body either." Edelgard sighed with her hands on her hips before shaking her head in defeat. "Very well. I suppose that, so long as it is merely one, I can allow such a thing."

"Thank you, Edelgard."

"…You have spoken to me with more emotion upon your face than I have ever seen, do you know that?" Edelgard's sudden comment caused an eyebrow to raise in response, the Empress merely nodding in Byleth's direction. "Exactly. Many soldiers in our ranks have never seen any emotional reaction from you greater than a raised eyebrow. To see you speak so freely, it is… refreshing. Lysithea always was one of your favoured students, was she not?"

Byleth didn't reply as he hefted the corpse onto his back, tenderly wrapping the fallen Lysithea's arms around his shoulders before beginning the long trek back home. Edelgard didn't immediately begin to follow, her eyes glued to the professor's back and the white-haired girl sat so carefully upon it.

You almost wouldn't believe that Lysithea was dead, not by how untouched her body appeared and not with how Byleth handled her. It wasn't difficult to view Lysithea as merely sleeping, recovering after a harsh battle; as a magic user, it made sense she would have few wounds, typically being placed in the backlines. Not even the tool that brought her death remained, the dagger discarded carelessly upon the ground with a torn strip of fabric preventing any more blood from leaking out.

Could Edelgard picture Byleth doing that for anyone else? His father maybe, but beyond that… no, no one came to mind, not even herself – not that she had any plans of dying any time soon, but if Edelgard were to fall, she doubted she would be treated with such tenderness. He wouldn't just leave her body; she would be recovered and buried with all of the dignity and respect an empress deserved, but not with the same gentle care and affection.

Without realising it, Edelgard released a small sigh before she began to move. It was clear how far the man had come since their fated meeting all those years ago. What had once been a cold, calculating mercenary randomly selected to teach their class had now become a brave warrior, a presence beloved by those who followed him and feared by all who opposed him. Not only had his already fierce abilities in combat grown, but Byleth's heart had grown warm. Originally, you could mistake him for a golem working on autopilot, uncaring for whether he offended anyone through his actions or words. Now? The fire in his voice and the confidence in his stride spurred even the most uninspired of soldiers.

"I-I tried to talk. I tried to reach out, I tried to understand you… but I think you understood me and just didn't care." Edelgard muttered barely above a whisper, an odd concoction of despair and happiness entering her voice. "I never stood a chance did I? Beaten by a child just as tainted as myself, a walking corpse! My teacher, I had thought it was because you were bad at displaying emotion but… you truly never cared for me as much as you did for her. There was never a chance of you returning my feelings at all!"


	10. Stuck in the past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After five years of war and conflict ruin the continent of Fodlan, the Church's last bastion of hope awakens once more. Returning to Garreg Mach, Byleth is forced to face the changes that occurred in his absence.

"Do you like it, Professor? I understand it can be quite debilitating to see me out of my Academy uniform but… well, it doesn't exactly fit me after five years."

Byleth remained silent, unable to believe his eyes. In the heat of battle, it was easy to forget what he had been told, but now the evidence was standing before him with a relieved smile upon her face. Five years truly had passed in the blink of an eye, five years that had completely transformed the world around him.

What had once been a beautiful cathedral now sat in ruins, hastily made patches and scaffolding trying its best to keep the ancient building together. Everywhere, rubble now decorated the grounds and it had become a common chore to help remove it. Garreg Mach had been devastated by what the years had brought and from what little Byleth had overheard during his small stroll, the rest of Fodlan fared no better.

But none of that mattered at the moment, not to Byleth. No, the only thing that mattered was that his students had become fully grown adults. Their school lives had been cut short torn asunder by the war that had thrown the continent into chaos. Training that should've only been used in dire situations had become a daily necessity and whether it was known to them or not, the effects showed in how the students held themselves.

Byleth had planned to plunge his students into the deep end. He had forced them to take lives, placed them in dangerous situations and refused to assist unless their lives were in truly grave danger. This kind of combat, however? They were never meant to witness it, let alone participate so frequently in it. Even the mercenaries hadn't faced war-scale battles.

Oh gods, what had happened to the mercenaries!? They had joined Garreg Mach's barracks to assist, but Byleth had yet to see them anywhere. Once Jeralt had… passed away, they had pushed Byleth into leading them; how had they fared with him gone? They were formidable opponents, but not invincible. With their two strongest warriors lost, who knew what kind of deaths the mercenaries could have met?

"Professor? Professor, look at me." It was only Lysithea's hands suddenly latching onto his shoulders that caused Byleth to realise he was hyperventilating. Had he ever been in such a state before? No, this was unfamiliar, confusedly unfamiliar. His heart felt like it was going to force itself out of Byleth's chest. The pain was almost as bad as the sudden spike that had appeared with Jeralt's death. "Breathe Professor. Try and copy me. Slowly…"

"…My apologies." The Professor eventually muttered after five minutes of the exercise, the Professor having been slowly dragged forward until he could finally collapse onto a nearby bench. If Lysithea stared hard, she could just about make out the most subtle hints of confusion breaking through Byleth's stony visage. "You look different. Taller. Brighter. You'll be easily seen in those colours like that."

Indeed, the academy uniform that Byleth had gotten so accustomed to seeing was now nowhere to be found, replaced a long-sleeved dress of lilac, gold, white and black. It wasn't as if the clothes didn't suit Lysithea – far from it, she looked quite comfortable in her attire – but after having seen a countless number of people all clad in similar clothing, it was rather strange to see his students wearing whatever they liked. Usually, non-uniform clothing was restricted to weekends and events and even then, many simply preferred to continue wearing the uniform.

"I like it. Besides, it may be bright, but I'm strong enough to make it less of a problem." Lysithea softly answered, a teasing smile on her face as lightly punched her professor. She could handle some unintentional teasing from Byleth if it meant that he was calmer. "Don't worry. Even if we look different, we're still the same people inside. As soon as clean up duty's complete, Garreg Mach will be back to normal as well."

Yes, that was correct; everything could return to normal. If everyone was safe, then there was nothing to be cautious about. Byleth let out a small sigh of relief as the pain of his heart calmed. Had that happened on the battlefield, he would be dead; he couldn't allow such an unsightly event to occur again.

"Of course. I shall meet with Seteth and see where I can assist." Byleth promptly answered, only to find Lysithea pushing down on his shoulders with a firm pout upon her face. It seemed that for all her talk of becoming stronger, Lysithea's physical ability had grown little; Byleth could still just as easily stand. Still, with a face like that, Byleth wouldn't be so cruel as to do so. "Is there an issue?"

"Professor you just basically had a small panic attack, after you've been who knows where for five years in a coma. You don't need to get back into work, you need to rest!" the white-haired girl quickly answered, firmly planting herself beside the man and folding her arms. "A lot of stuff has happened. Anyone would be debilitated if they saw everyone around them suddenly way older than they were before. Just take a break and relax."

That was easier said than done. Byleth was a man who lived and breathed action and becoming a professor had done little to curb that. Surely it would be better to be of use to the monastery than to do absolutely nothing? Byleth had already done that for five years, as much as the rational part of his mind didn't want to accept it.

"Here." The denial Byleth was going to give however was quickly silenced when he found Lysithea's weight planted firmly upon his lap, met by a waterfall of white hair flowing before him. His confusion must've made itself obvious in the way Byleth tensed up, Lysithea turning back slightly to give a reassuring smile. "You clearly want to leave, so I'm giving you something to do. My hair has been kind of a mess with everything that's been going on – please fix it for me, Professor."

This… was not behaviour Byleth expected of his student, yet he went to work without a word. It wasn't a foreign activity to him after all, not with how often the female portion of the mercenaries went through the same issues. When he had been younger, unable to join in with the battles, it had been one of the few manners in which Byleth could feel useful. Perhaps that was why he didn't understand why giggles could be heard in the distance, the gossiping girls' whispers lost to the wind.

Almost as soon as Byleth began, Lysithea seemed to melt into Byleth's body with a relaxed sigh, one step away from falling asleep. Sure, Hilda and Marianne had done something similar before but there was something about the sheer dexterity of Byleth's fingers that send a shiver down the white-haired girl's spine. Okay, perhaps she was enjoying this just a little too much.

"…What is this veil?" Byleth's question quickly shook Lysithea back to reality. She had completely forgotten about it, so used to having the purple fabric in her hair that Lysithea barely even registered the minuscule weight.

"Oh, it was a memento from my parents, before I returned to Garreg Mach at Claude's request," Lysithea explained, carefully reaching up to remove it without displacing herself from Byleth's lap. "Do you remember when I told you about my past? When I told you about the burden that I must deal with?"

"Yes." How could he forget? It had been a vivid experience, horrors unthinkable spoken as if they were everyday occurrences. Lysithea had explained how it was the only way she could stave off the nightmares; if she didn't treat her past with indifference, then the only thing left would be a catatonic corpse. "Are you hiding something?"

"Very much the opposite. It helps me remember." Lysithea began, a bittersweet smile firmly in place as she absently stroked the veil. "Have you noticed something odd about the way the Golden Deer have dressed Professor? Something about the colours?"

Each of the students flashed by in Byleth's mind, brief interactions that had no less been equal parts confusing and reassuring. When you ignored the fact that they were suddenly far older than he had expected them to be, there hadn't been much to elicit concern from their appearance. Lorenz was dressed as elegantly as one would expect, Hilda revealed far too much skin to be appropriate and Leonie looked every part the hunter when you ignored how bright the orange she wore was.

Hang on a minute…

"Lorenz – violet. Raphael – yellow. Ignatz – green. Marianne – blue…" Byleth muttered, a small frown coming to his face as the realisation slowly settled in. he couldn't quite believe what he was going to say, but all the evidence pointed towards a single conclusion. "You all dressed in the same colour as your hair? Is that meant to serve a tactical purpose?"

"Well, more of a pragmatic one. With you lost and Lady Rhea taken away by the Empire, the people of Garreg Mach needed somebody to turn to and Seteth was getting overwhelmed on his own," answered Lysithea. "The bright colour scheme was Claude's idea; he figured if the people could see your students fighting to defend Garreg Mach, morale would be kept up. Do all we can to stand out and stand up to the Empire; even if they attack, Garreg Mach will not be defeated so easily. Of course, Claude has to wear yellow because of his position as the Leicester Alliance's leader, but the colour suits him at least."

It was a… novel concept, but one that Byleth could easily imagine Claude perpetrating. It had probably started as some sort of stupid joke that turned into a surprisingly beneficial plan. Even now, the professor could see people looking to Lysithea's direction with looks of awe and hope to their eyes – strange as it was, one couldn't deny that it was working as intended. There was only one issue in that case.

"Then what of you? There is white but your main colour is purple. That doesn't make sense." Byleth pointed and the bittersweet smile only grew.

"My hair wasn't always white you know, Professor. Thanks to the experiments conducted on me, they permanently disfigured me, changed me into this ugly girl you see before you." Lysithea muttered, a hand reaching up to violently tug upon the white strands Byleth had so carefully neatened out. "Before my hair ended up like this, I used to have the same hair colour as my mother. A beautiful lilac colour just like this…"

Being so used to seeing the white-haired Lysithea, Byleth struggled to imagine her with any other hair colour. Even knowing that it wasn't her original hair colour did little to change that. looking at the veil in Lysithea's hands, however… yes, she wouldn't look bad at all. No, very much the opposite, the colour suited her well. Not so harsh as the purple Lorenz's hair was, but something softer, sweeter. That suited Lysithea to a tee.

"When I put the veil on and look into the mirror, I can pretend that my hair is that colour. I can pretend just for a moment that I was the innocent girl who shared her mother's hair colour. Not the girl who became unrecognisable at first." It came as a whisper, Lysithea carefully placing the veil back on as she leapt off Byleth's lap, quickly shaking her head of such thoughts. "Thanks for doing my hair professor. I need to get around to helping Marianne in the stables. Try not to push yourself too hard, okay?"

"Of course." Byleth barely had time to reply before Lysithea had run off, leaving the professor alone. At least, until another familiar voice called from the distance.

"Hey Teach! Or, maybe 'Teach' isn't exactly right considering the Officer's Academy has been suspended thanks to the war breaking out." Claude remarked as he approached, hands behind his head. For the supposed leader of an entire third of Fodlan, such a stance was disturbingly casual, yet perfectly suited for someone like Claude. "I saw Lysithea with you. Reacquainting quickly, I see."

"Indeed. She decided I needed to rest. She used unorthodox methods to do so." Byleth quickly answered, his eyes narrowing at the strangled chuckle that forced its way out of Claude's lips. "Is there an issue?"

"You say that as if half the monastery didn't already know. Word spreads just as fast as it did before; at least some things never change." The Golden Deer said, no longer even trying to hold back his laughter. "Imagine my surprise when I hear that you've got Lysithea sitting in your lap without complaint. You work fast, kind of jealous."

"And why would that be an issue?"

"…That's a joke right?" Claude asked but Byleth's face did not budge. The reaction only elicited further laughter from Claude, a moment required just to be able to speak again. "You don't think there's anything strange about having a pretty girl sitting on your lap asking you to play with her hair? Maybe it would've been a little more innocent back when she was younger, but Lysithea's a full-grown adult now. I guess what I'm saying is, if you're gonna do things like that, at least keep it to the privacy of your own rooms."

"Lysithea? She is fifteen." Byleth pointed out in confusion. There would be none so foolish as to believe he would be doing anything inappropriate with an underage student? Well, any student hopefully, but certainly not one as young as Lysithea. Sure, the mercenaries could… think a little differently compared to some of the nobles that populated Garreg Mach, but they still had some level of self-respect.

"Don't forget the five years you've been sleeping. We're not talking about a fifteen-year-old anymore, we're talking about a pretty cute twenty-year-old whose been gathering the eyes of quite a few people." Claude answered, flinging an arm around the professor's shoulders and slowly walking him towards the dining hall. "You know how many admirers she's got tailing her? It only became worse after the Golden Deer got back together to help out Garreg Mach. Thing is, she's turned down everyone, every single man with the same reason."

"I still do not see how this concerns me, Claude," Byleth muttered with folded arms.

Okay, so maybe he had forgotten that Lysithea was now twenty rather than fifteen. While the clothes and surroundings had changed, the way she acted was only a little different from how she usually conducted herself – straight to the point and persistent when she set her eyes on something. Perhaps there was a little more room for misinterpretation then. Regardless, she was still a student under Byleth's care, no matter what; so long as Garreg Mach still stood, then those who wished to have his guidance would have it. That meant he would treat them with all the respect expected of a student-teacher relationship.

" 'I will either be with the man I desire or no man at all. Let me be clear; you are nothing compared to the man I desire.' That's what Lysithea told them. All of them." Claude explained, a devious smirk breaking out across his face as he pushed Byleth down onto a nearby bench, waving his hand to the chef and receiving a positive call in response. "Now think carefully about this: Lysithea spends five years declining tonnes of men saying she's waiting for the one she desires and then as soon as you appear again, she starts acting all cuddly and needy. You can be a little dense at times, but the clues should be obvious even to you, right?"

Well, when it was phrased like that, but… how could Lysithea consider Byleth a person to be admired, let alone a potential romantic partner? When he joined Garreg Mach, Byleth's only qualification had been his reputation as a fierce mercenary and his lessons probably hadn't done much to ameliorate that reputation. While that may have been good for establishing himself as an experienced instructor, it hardly portrayed Byleth as a good person, did it?

"I have much blood on my hands. I am not a man to win hearts." The professor explained, only just realising how hard he was gripping the table when the wood shattered beneath his fingers. He would have to source a replacement; it was the least he could do considering how much trouble the church was already going through.

"Don't we all, my friend, don't we all?" Claude mused before his face suddenly became far more serious, a strange visage for the Golden Deer to bear. It was only natural that Byleth takes his words seriously if Claude was willing to break his cheerful demeanour. "The difference is, you've done a lot to counteract that. No other professor interacts with their students as much as you did. Tea parties, birthday flowers, joining us for meals, even cooking for us. Do you think any of the others went to that extent?"

"…Yes?" it wasn't as if it was particularly difficult. Anyone could make a good cup of tea if they practised. Nothing said that professors had to eat separately from students. Byleth hadn't been doing anything that any of the other professors couldn't have done with equal ease.

"…You really are a weird one, aren't you Byleth Eisner?" was all Claude could respond with, giving a small wink to the young girl who passed them their plates and earning himself a blush from her. "Still, can't say I'm surprised. If there was anyone who was going to steal little old Lysithea's heart, it was never going to be anyone ordinary."

"I'm still not sure why you're so insistent. There is nothing between us."

"Sure. Just eat, my friend."


	11. Smashed shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There have been strange rumours and stranger figures lurking around Garreg Mach. Enlisted by his father, Byleth tries his best to root out the cause, only to find himself drawn into a conflict he never could've expected. A piece written in celebration of Byleth's inclusion in Smash Ultimate.

"Greetings Professor! Something to report! Apparently, there's been news of a massive fighting tournament occurring, and they want to host matches at Garreg Mach! There are rumours of tonnes of people coming from beyond Fodlan to participate!"

It was not unreasonable, Byleth supposed. Garreg Mach was no stranger to combat or even combat tournaments, not when the Officers Academy held weekly tournaments that regularly drew a large crowd. If whoever was organising the tournament didn't want to create their tournament grounds, then Garreg Mach's facilities were more than sufficient. Plus, it would have an immediate audience in the students, who were always searching for new ways to entertain themselves.

Still, for such an announcement to come out of nowhere was somewhat concerning for the Professor. Fodlan hadn't exactly had the best of relationships with the world beyond the borders of the continent, so why would they suddenly accept a massive influx of foreigners for the sake of a fighting tournament? They couldn't even get along with Almyra, and that was sitting right next door! Any countries from further away were practically unknown entities and letting strangers into one of the main powerhouses of Fodlan wasn't something Byleth would normally approve of. He'd have to do some research and figure out just how this all came to be.

"I assume that you've come across the news as well, Professor?" Lysithea's voice from behind caused the Professor to turn with a curt nod, watching as a sigh escaped the Golden Deer. "I don't think you can escape it. A giant event out of nowhere, apparently involving huge numbers of foreign participants? It barely even took a day before the entire monastery was gossiping. I can understand their excitement, but something feels… a little off about it."

"Indeed. It is suspicious." Byleth commented succinctly, looking up to the monastery and the small window where green hair could just be made out. "I do not make the rules. The Archbishop knows more than me. If she accepts, I cannot complain."

"At least you've actually thought about the situation," Lysithea replied, a bitter tone to her words as she matched the blue-haired man's rhythm. "All any of the other students speak of now is whether they have a chance of participating as well. The training ground tournaments are getting flooded with people trying to train for it, it's ridiculous. If we're going to represent Fodlan on a global scale, it's obvious that we're going to choose someone more reputable and skilled, not some random student in their first year of military training."

"Do you not want to compete?" Byleth asked as they eventually paused before the pond, watching from the side as Flayn tried to learn how to fish. It was an… an interesting effort to watch, but there was some potential to her technique. "There must be rewards. Fame among your peers."

"I do not need that sort of thing. Unless they have something that can cause a miracle, I'm perfectly content with what I have now." The white-haired girl quickly dismissed. "Besides, while there is much to be gained, so is there much to be lost. Imagine if I were to be selected, only to lose in the first round? Not only would I have disgraced my family's name, but the reputation of the Leicester Alliance, Garreg Mach, and Fodlan would be tainted as well. If others delude themselves into thinking they can bear such a burden, let them; I'm not willing to take such a foolish risk."

"Reasonable."

There were probably some who would reach the same conclusions. Those like Ingrid or Hubert would allow their common sense to stay their hands. Others, such as Ignatz or Marianne, would be too shy to even ponder the thought of volunteering themselves. It was the more reckless of the Officers Academy that Byleth had to keep an eye on; those who either believed they had a serious chance of succeeding or simply wanted to join another fight. Hopefully, the tamer students would be able to keep their rowdier counterparts in line, or lessons were about to get a whole lot more distracted.

"What about you, Professor?" Lysithea's question drew the man out of his musings, Byleth looking down to meet the inquisitive eyes gazing at him. "What are your plans? You're far more suitable for the job than any student and even among the staff, you're more renowned. I don't think there is anyone who could beat you without some assistance or advantage."

"Incorrect. Jeralt is a capable warrior. He has taught me much." Byleth eventually said after a brief hesitation, glancing around before picking up a small log of wood. Lysithea's head tilted as she watched; it was an ordinary piece of firewood, nothing of particular interest, yet the Professor seemed to inspect it closely before tossing it in his hand. "There are differences between us. He would be a better choice."

It wasn't an unreasonable suggestion. After all, while his son was renowned and feared as the Ashen Demon, Jeralt was the infamous Bladebreaker. Not everyone had the skill to become one of the Knights of Seiros' greatest captains, after all, and few had anything bad to say about the man. Nobody would object if such a man were to represent Fodlan in the mysterious tournament.

But that wasn't to say that Byleth was a slouch in that department either. After all, they had witnessed the blue-haired man's brutality before, when facing bandits. Now _that_ was something to be feared. Not only had Byleth been taught much by his father, but the professor also had a ruthless style all of his own that swept through opponents as if they were nothing. Even with training weapons, Byleth had caused some devastating injuries during the mock battles he was allowed to participate in. If Byleth was allowed to use his full might? Lysithea struggled to imaginer many who could best him, in Fodlan or elsewhere.

"Ah, kid. I was wondering where you've been hiding." Greeted by Jeralt's voice, Byleth turned around with a curt nod, the old man's face unreadable for a moment before it settled into something a bit friendlier. "Good to see ya bonding with the students. Haven't had much of a chance to check you and your class out, but it sounds like you're all a good bunch. Pleasure."

"Oh, the pleasure is all mine. It's not every day you come face to face with such a prestigious figure as the Captain of the Knights of Seiros." Lysithea replied, her noble training immediately kicking in. normally, it would be expected for such respect to be shown, yet Jeralt seemed somewhat uncomfortable with the formality. "Shall I leave you two to it? I wouldn't want to intrude on familiar business."

"Don't worry about it, I'll only need him for a second." Jeralt dismissed, his hand coming down on his son's shoulder as a more solemn expression took place on his face. "Listen up kid. All of the chatter you've heard about a tournament? It hasn't come out of nowhere. I've been seeing some strange things around here, things you wouldn't believe. I've got some of my men patrolling about, but with all of the outside missions, I can only spare so many. Keep an eye out for anything weird, okay? People will be a little less responsive if they automatically assume that an invader's a part of this tournament business."

"Of course." Byleth quickly replied. Depending on how far the rumours spread, there could be potentially hundreds of bandits willing to try and take advantage and with how many rumour-filled letters were probably being sent to parents, it wouldn't be surprising if a fair few were already planning. If anyone believed that Garreg Mach was going to allow any old troublemaker in, then they would have Byleth's blade awaiting them. "Leave it to me."

"Knew I could. Gotta go; I swear, they've given the captain way more work than they used to."

"You don't seriously believe that people are foolish enough to try and attack Garreg Mach?" Lysithea questioned as Jeralt left, Byleth staring off into the distance for a moment as he tried to find an answer.

"Those who succumb to their baser instincts sacrifice intelligence. They see unknown people being invited onto monastery grounds without acknowledging all of the work required to allow such a thing." The professor explained, the sage tone to his voice causing Lysithea to nod in realisation.

"So, they're idiots."

"…Indeed."

* * *

Luckily, Byleth's patrols in addition to the ones conducted by the Knights of Seiros had meant that nobody had been able to enter monastery grounds with malicious intent. That wasn't to say that people didn't try, but they were easily dissuaded once the professor's strength was appropriately demonstrated. So long as things continued as they were, things would soon settle down.

The feeling of something falling on his shoulder caused Byleth to pause, absently brushing off his coat before continuing his journey back towards the monastery. When more started to fall on him, his irritation began to grow greater and greater until his eyes turned upward. There had been no clouds for rain after all, which could only mean something strange was going on.

That didn't mean he was prepared for the veritable shower of strange purple particles falling from the sky, violet spheres seemingly coming out of nowhere and raining down on Byleth. It was no magic the mercenary was familiar with and Byleth would've known if anyone from the monastery was out this far. An enemy that managed to evade his detection then? Byleth had been looking forward to some more exercise.

Jumping away from the strange magic and drawing the Sword of the Creator, Byleth prepared to parry whatever the magic was meant to achieve. His blade lowered however when he realised that the magic wasn't actually trying to attack him, but slowly come together, a huge pile of the violet spheres gathering together and growing larger by the second. Given a minute, they had reached the height of a full human; another, and Byleth was horrified to find that they could look like a human as well.

When Caspar and Ingrid's faces first appeared out of the purple magic, Byleth felt his grip tightened around the hilt of the Sword of the Creator. They weren't exact copies, their eyes an ominous yellow and a vicious dark aura surrounding their forms, but that didn't mean there wasn't momentary hesitation in Byleth's movements. That was probably why they chose to clone his students.

Yet he would not be so easily swayed. With a sharp flick of his arm, Byleth's eyes narrowed as the Sword of the Creator separated into its whip-like form, lashing out to ensnare the Ingrid copy's lance. Had it been the actual Ingrid, she would've never been able to match his strength, yet Byleth's frown grew when he found the clone unmoving, matching his strength perfectly. It meant that the professor was forced to release his grip on the lance, lest he be unable to dodge the gauntlets that were suddenly in his face.

Weaving around the punches from the Caspar copy, Byleth slid effortlessly around the attempted backstab from the Ingrid copy, giving her a firm slap on the back. For anyone else, it would have little effect, but with Byleth's strength backing it up, it sent the Ingrid copy flying forward. With her lance already extend from her previous attack, it meant that the Caspar copy could do nothing as its shoulder was suddenly impaled.

The Caspar copy instinctively reached up to pull out the lance, meaning that Byleth was free to take the Sword of the Creator and throw out its segmented blade, wrapping it around the blue-haired clone's neck. It barely had a moment to cry out, if it could, before it was perfectly beheaded, a tackle from Byleth pushing the headless corpse onto its companion.

It was the perfect distraction, for even clones appeared to freak out when the blood (or whatever you'd call the odd viscous liquid of deep purple that spurted out of the wound) of your lifeless companions sprayed all over you. Too busy throwing the corpse off itself, the Ingrid clone had no time to regain control of its lance, leaving it completely defenceless. Well, a free weapon was a free weapon – Byleth had no qualms about pulling it free and piercing the Ingrid clone's eye, followed by viciously bisecting her entire body, armour and all.

Both dead, the clones' forms dissolved back into the shadowy orbs they were born from. Byleth watched apathetically as the corpse faded, the orbs fading out of existence. There were more important matters to attend to after all. Byleth had no idea where the magicians responsible for the spells were, meaning they could be anywhere at this point. He would have to return immediately.

Byleth wouldn't get the chance however, for more of the dark magic had already appeared to take on the form of his students. With Marianne and Bernadetta blocking the path forward and what seemed like half of every house forming a circle around him, there was little room for the mercenary to make his escape. Naturally, that didn't mean he couldn't simply cut out his escape route.

That was easier said than done though, even for one as skilled in combat as Byleth. With their enhanced strength compared to their originals, the clones proved far more of an obstacle than the blue-haired man would've liked. The arrows were simple enough to block on their own, but with a plethora of different close-range weapons to deal with as well, it was a fair struggle. Magic could be avoided, except there was a cage of bodies that prevented Byleth from moving too far. Had there been maybe three at a time, then Byleth's quality would override the opponent's quantity, but this was ridiculous.

Not to mention the confusion passing through Byleth's mind as he found himself facing some of the Golden Deer. Whereas he struck the others with practised ease, whenever Byleth found his blade aimed at someone like the clones of Marianne or Lysithea, his body briefly refused to move. It was only the smallest of hesitations, but to Byleth, it was a glaring error. Not only was he having to deal with unreasonable numbers of enemies by himself, but his body was also actively fighting against him.

"Thoron!"

Byleth would not have to worry about it any further however, for a sudden beam of pure electricity pierced the hearts of both clones. All combat paused, every single one of the clones turning to where the magic originated, a sparking hand closing a yellow tome.

They were… unfamiliar combatants to say the least. Seven gathered together, five men and two women, all ready to fight at a moment's notice. Had it been any other situation, Byleth would've considered them with more caution but as long as they were fighting his enemies, he could accept them as temporary allies.

"You've been holding yourself well. I see why they have such high regards for you." The leader of the group spoke, a shimmering sword near effortlessly cutting down to of the clones that tried to attack. "Do not worry, however. This is a threat we're more than experienced with. Allow us to end this!"

"Um, I mean, most of us weren't here when you first dealt with the shadow bugs." The white armoured woman sheepishly remarked before pulling out her golden blade. It was a beauty in and of itself, but when its edge suddenly gained numerous teeth that viciously spun, the sword only became even more of an awe-inspiring weapon. "But we'll still help fight!"

Byleth didn't even need to move before the seven strange warriors jumped into action. Well, he did have to duck to the side when a redheaded swordsman charged forward, his sword completely wreathed in flame that scorched all it came across. It was fortunate that the white-haired warrior was able to somehow command water without any spoken spell, for surely the surrounding land would be completely burnt by that point.

There wasn't only fire though. The dark-robed magician who had saved him with a thoron was eagerly demonstrating the other elements at his disposal. Using the power of elwind to leap high into the sky, Byleth watched as flames rained down from above, the magician landing behind a burning clone of Raphael to drain his life with nosferatu.

"Lucina, with me!"

"Of course, father!"

"Guess I'll join you two then."

Those who weren't defeated through magical means were torn apart by swordsmanship on a completely different level. The father and daughter duo dodged around the attacks that came with perfect harmony, their fighting style seemingly self-taught from how unique their movements were. It meant little to them however, for the enemies they faced fell just as easily.

And the last, well, Byleth had never seen muscles as large as that man's. it was the only way someone could lift a sword as large and heavy as the one he wielded, slicing through the clones as if they were butter. When it too burst into flames, though azure in colour rather than crimson, the damage that he was dealing only multiplied.

In seemingly no time at all, the final clone was killed by the leader's strikes, the shadowy orbs dissipating and hopefully not returning for a third round. With all weapons sheathed, Byleth was left alone with the motley group, only relaxing slightly as the leader approached.

"Thank goodness we managed to make it in time. Not to speak down on the people of this land, but the shadow bugs can be a bit surprising when first encountered." The leader remarked, an enigmatic smile on his face as he held his hand out to Byleth. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Marth. The men you see here are Roy, Ike, Robin and Chrom. The women are Lucina and Corrin. We've been looking for you, Professor Byleth Eisner."

"…Why?"

The newly introduced Marth didn't answer, instead choosing to silently hold out a letter sealed with a strange red symbol.


	12. A summoning sigh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth dons the detective role when Marianne is suddenly found acting strange. Naturally, Lysithea takes the challenge of being the Professor's plucky assistant. It is quickly made apparent, however, that finding the truth is not as easy as it seems.

Lysithea wasn't particularly fond of staying up these days. With all of the work that needed to be done to restore Garreg Mach in addition to the endless skirmishes, the white-haired girl looked for any excuse to rest her legs. It was to be expected then, that when Claude decided that Lysithea was the one best suited to handle a night-time assault, Lysithea wouldn't be the most cheerful of people that night. It was fortunate that the leader of the Leicester Alliance was elsewhere, for the way that dark magic danced around Lysithea's fingers didn't exactly bode well for what she had in planned for Claude.

The moment that she saw a shock of blue hair passing through the darkness however, the magic dissipating as Lysithea squinted. With nought but the light of the moon, it was hard to make out any of the details, but Marianne's form was distinct enough. The reason as to why Marianne would be crawling about in the darkness however, that was even more difficult to figure out. For reasons that Marianne had shared with few, the healer of the Golden deer tended to sleep rather heavily; she wouldn't be up without very strong motivation.

"Lysithea? Is there an issue?" choking back a startled scream, Lysithea whirled around, Byleth's face illuminated by the candle's glow. The man managed to sneak through the night like a trained assassin, a notable feat considering how many rocks and pieces of debris littered the monastery grounds. "You appear to have seen a ghost. Do we have an intruder?"

"No, just Marianne, but she's acting weird…" Lysithea murmured, taking a step back before she paused and gave a dark glare in Byleth's direction. "Wait, was that a dig on my fear of ghosts? I told you that because I thought you wouldn't make fun of me for it!"

Byleth didn't answer, merely drawing his sword and proceeding forward without a word. With a pout upon her face and her arms folded, Lysithea had no choice but to follow. Byleth wasn't exactly one made for teasing; he had shown that well enough. Greeting her with a line like that however, there was no way it wasn't intentional.

There were more pressing matters at hand, however, made clear when they heard a pained gasp coming from… somewhere. Byleth's small distraction had been just enough for Lysithea to lose sight of Marianne, that small cry the only lead they had to go off. Naturally, the professor followed after without hesitation, Lysithea trying her best to keep pace and not get distracted by the rather ominous sounds that seemed to come out of nowhere. She thought she was doing fairly alright until a branch suddenly falling caused her to nearly jump in surprise.

Before a noise could be made Byleth's hand was clasped around her mouth, Lysithea almost freaking out further until she realised that she wasn't being struck by some hideous ghoul. Relaxing slightly, the next question to strike her was why exactly the man had decided to manhandle her. The moment that she looked in the same direction as Byleth however, Lysithea was met with a sight that provided several more questions rather than answers.

Pawing at the ground like some sort of feral beast with an expression to match, Marianne seemed to have lost all control. Drool fell from open lips as the blue-haired girl desperately dug at the ground and wall, a blush on her face as she tried to force herself as close to the ground as possible. With her position on all fours, there was something disturbingly erotic about the situation, Lysithea silently wishing that Byleth had covered her eyes rather than her mouth.

Byleth showed no reaction as he slowly released the girl in his hands cautious approaching the wild Marianne silently. It wasn't necessary, not with how devoted the girl seemed to be to… whatever it was she was doing, but you could never be too careful. The only issue came when the professor gently laid a hand on Marianne's shoulder, an ultimately harmless action that somehow drew the girl's rage.

"My blood compels me!" Marianne cried, literally clawing at the professor with far more strength than she had any right to bear. Though Byleth was able to fend off the girl, the sheer primal anger that appeared on Marianne's face, brought a frown to his face. Drool was thrown about everywhere, any sense of propriety or restraint completely lost to Marianne as she tried her best to return to her digging. "I must keep going!"

"Control yourself!" Byleth growled, strengthening his grip. Lysithea thought it a lost cause, more than ready to join in; when the madness in Marianne's eyes suddenly began to falter, she was proven surprisingly wrong. "Remember who you are!"

"My blood, I must… I must…" the crazed girl tried to protest, only to find her strength seeping out by the second.

Before too long, Marianne was completely limp in the professor's arms, looking seconds away from falling asleep. Gone was the madness that possessed her, in appearance at the very least, leaving only the slightly gloomy girl they had come to know. Lysithea's relief was clear when Marianne opened her eyes with a much more rational demeanour, a blush appearing on Marianne's face when she noticed how close to the Professor she was.

"Um, er, oh my Professor! And Lysithea too!" the blue-haired girl quietly fumbled, looking down to the dirt on her nightwear and hastily trying to clean herself off. "Wh-what are you two doing out here when it's so dark? What am _I_ doing here? Did you bring me here?"

"…No, we're not doing this." Lysithea muttered, her face immediately colliding with her palm. "You really can't remember what just happened? No, that makes way too much sense; you of all people wouldn't act so shamelessly otherwise…"

"Shamelessly? What was I doing?" Marianne murmured in response, curling into herself as the cold breeze blew through. "All I remember is trying to go to sleep and then I was here."

"You were digging. The question is why here?" Byleth mused aloud, crouching down with an analytical eye. It was clear that there was something buried under the monastery, but Byleth could recall no stories of objects that could elicit such a strange reaction. Even then, the ground, if you ignored the new marks from Marianne's freak out, had been long undisturbed. If it had been something buried there for a long time, surely its effects would've been noticed before now? "It is late. I will investigate in the morning. Return to your rooms."

"Are you sure it's okay to just ignore it for now?" Lysithea questioned. "I mean, there aren't many people who are up during the night. What if Marianne suddenly decides she wants to become a dog again and start digging? We were only out here because of pure luck."

"Sleep with her."

The two girls didn't respond immediately. After all, they weren't entirely certain that what they heard was correct. It was only when the man appeared to be completely serious that the two girls spared a glance to each other and voiced their thoughts in perfect synchronicity.

"What?"

"Sleep in the same room, prevent Marianne from acting if it happens. I see no issue with that." Byleth explained, not even waiting for an answer before marching back to his quarters. It would've been considered rude in any other situation, but goddamn it, Lysithea was too tired to make a big deal of it. She didn't care if she had to seep in one of the crypts at this rate, she just needed any rest she could get before the sun intruded.

"For a professor, he really needs to work on his wording sometimes." The white-haired girl muttered in disbelief, turning to Marianne with a beckoning gesture of the head. "Well, I guess things could be worst. Come on, it'll be just like five years ago."

"Oh, um, okay…" Marianne hesitantly answered, the feral beast long since replaced by the mannerisms of a tame puppy. "Lysithea… you said I was digging right? You seemed kind of weirded out. Was that all I was doing?"

"Honestly? You would probably sleep better if you didn't know."

* * *

Byleth wasn't sure which was more confusing; that there was nothing to be found where Marianne had been desperately searching, or that Marianne seemed to be completely unaffected by whatever strange force bewitched her. Several days had passed and the blue-haired girl was just as meek and mild as she usually was. The evidence pointed to her actions being the result of some sort of curse, but Byleth couldn't imagine what kind of curse could make a person act so specifically.

Nothing in the library happened to have any information, but there was only so much you could find with Seteth combing the shelves for anything he didn't particularly like. They probably thought they were being subtle, giving the students just enough information to not complain while holding back many of the juicier details. It served _them_ well enough, but for someone attempting to figure out esoteric curses and magicks? It was a little less useful. Quite frankly, it left Byleth stumped.

The other staff of Garreg Mach had been of little help as well. Not through any malicious intent, none that Byleth could detect at least, but genuine lack of knowledge. Even his father, with the inhumane level of experience he had managed to gather in his life, had only vague assumptions to give. The only who seemed to have an inkling of what might be occurring was Archbishop Rhea, but Byleth had been unable to gain an audience with her.

Those failed investigations were what led to the professor staring at the ground, completely unaware of the odd glances that he was getting from the rest of the monastery. There couldn't simply be nothing, there was no way someone could be made to dig with such dogged determination at a specific location if there was no significance to it. Why was it then, no matter how deep he dug, there was nothing!?

"I'm assuming that you haven't been able to find anything Professor?" Lysithea could be heard behind him, Byleth giving little than a disgruntled sound. His pensive expression would've had him looking quite alluring had he not been stood in the middle of a giant hole in the ground. "Should I get you a ladder? If you're going to dig any deeper, you don't want to dig yourself into a hole you can't get out."

"I should be fine. Marianne?"

"Surrounded by everyone else. if she's going to freak out and try to come back here, she's going to have a lot of obstacles to get through." Lysithea replied, one semi-disgusted glance at the hole before she lowered herself into the crevasse. For one who preferred to dress in white, the thought of lowering herself into the dirt wasn't the most appealing, but it allowed Lysithea a better sight of the hard rock beneath the earth. "Okay, so something you can't exactly dig casually through."

"And also, something that cannot be easily recreated," Byleth added. His foot glided across the smooth stone, a firm kick producing little effect. "If there was a catalyst buried here, there would be marks. Remnants of the magic that constructed it. It is too smooth. It could have been tunnelled to, but there's nowhere else that has been disturbed."

"So, you have zero leads and no evidence to prove why Marianne was acting so strange. Acting in a manner that, now that she has been noticed, hasn't shown any sign of doing so again and seems to remember nothing about it?" Lysithea summed up with a teasing smile, getting a distracted nod from her professor. "Maybe Marianne's just spending a bit too much time with the animals. She always did love Dorte a bit more than I thought was healthy~!"

"Impossible. She wouldn't react the way she did." Byleth immediately denied, Lysithea taking a moment to roll her eyes before forming her response.

"You need to learn how to lighten up a little. I thought you were starting to get somewhere when you made that remark about making Marianne and me sleep together." The white-haired girl muttered, slightly bitterly. "But the situation's still the same. Your investigations haven't gotten anywhere, and I can't really do much to add to the effort. What are you meant to do when the options have all been exhausted?"

"Then we create our own."

"…I'm not entirely sure I understand, Professor."

"We let whatever happened to her happen again. Let someone else do the work for us." Byleth mused, a thousand plans flying through his mind. Pulling himself out of the hole and helping Lysithea do the same, the man began to carefully refill the hole with revitalised energy. "They dig up whatever they want to find. We keep an eye on them, stop it if things get dangerous."

"Wait, you're not seriously saying we let Marianne get possessed like that again!?" Lysithea objected, her shouts loud enough to draw the attention of everyone surrounding. Well half of them were already staring at the professor digging a random hole anyway, but those who had managed to ignore the strange scene now turned to them. It was only the combination of Lysithea and Byleth's withering glares that had them awkwardly return to minding their own business. "I'm not a big fan of letting my friends get affected by weird magic, but actively letting them get affected twice is a definite no!"

"We have few alternatives. She will remain unharmed." Byleth countered, his countenance unmoved. The two remained like that, frozen, for who knew how long. It was only when Lysithea's eye began twitching that she finally relented, folding her arms petulantly. "When she was digging last time, she did not appear to be in pain. She only dug, did nothing that could harm her. I will have fail-safes in place as a precaution."

"Um, we've kind of got an issue over here!"

The two turned at Claude's panicked call, but it did nothing to prepare either for the sight that awaited them. not only had Marianne reverted to the feral state she had demonstrated before, but the entirety of her class was also now desperately scrambling to stop her. Ignatz tried to catch her, only to fall short; Raphael was forced to the side when he found out how sharp Marianne's nails were. One by one, her fellow Golden deer fell at Marianne's hands, only Claude, Hilda and Lysithea left unharmed by the crazed girl.

"Leave her be!" Byleth called out, pulling Lysithea out of the way as poor, unfortunate Lorenz was thrown to the side by a single-minded Marianne.

The others were loathe to do so, but relented at their professor's orders. With Hilda releasing what awkward grip she managed to get, it meant Marianne was unobstructed as she stumbled towards Byleth's position. As expected, both Byleth and Lysithea were completely ignored as Marianne momentarily stared down into the hole, not a single ounce of reservation in Marianne's eyes as she jumped straight in and began to claw at the stone below.

Once she realised that she couldn't dig through it however, Marianne seemed to pause. Lysithea was almost led to believe that Marianne had come to her senses once more, only to realise that she couldn't be further from the truth. Rather than be deterred, Marianne seemed completely content, swishing her face as close to the earth as possible with a disturbing blush. It was a good thing that the Golden Deer left standing were able to form a barrier around the hole, for many would have the rather risqué image burned into their minds immediately.

"She's… not going to do anything?" Lysithea couldn't help but mutter aloud, rubbing her eyes in disbelief. "She was digging a hole so… she could have a hole to sit in? This is ridiculous. If this is some random student who found a rank curse, I'm killing him. This was not worth all the worry."

"It appears so." And though Byleth spoke those words with the same stoic expression as ever, it wasn't hard to believe that he was going through the same mental struggle. "she does not appear to be in pain. Healing magic doesn't have an effect. I acquired an item to supposed break curses; it is having no effect. This _is_ Marianne."

"No way, you're not convincing me that Marianne of all people is acting like this of her own accord." The white-haired girl immediately denied, the professor merely tossing a strange pendant in Lysithea's direction. At first, she did not recognise it, but the memory of one of Hannerman's lectures soon came to mind. Byleth had not lied; it truly was a talisman for breaking curses a talisman completely unresponsive in Marianne's presence. "But Marianne has never acted like this before, why would she suddenly decide to do so now?"

Byleth didn't immediately react, trying his best to formulate a response as he looked down at the still cooing Marianne on her earthen bed. It was only after a minute that anything came to mind.

"People are strange creatures." He supposed. "I never pretend to understand them."

* * *

Deep beneath the basements of Garreg Mach, the world beneath lived their lives blissfully unaware of the surface's current turmoil. It was here that a lilac haired man approached a redheaded resident, his arms folded with a clear look of irritation.

"I thought I told you before you can't afford to sigh here, Hapi. You know that you can attract monsters no matter where you are down here." The man scolded, though the one who he directed those complaints to remained completely unaffected.

"Come on Yuri-bird. Look around you, can you see any monsters?" the woman replied, brushing aside red hair with another sigh and carefully shifting herself into a more appropriate resting position. "It's fine. Call me if a monster tries to get in."


	13. The melody of Morfis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The world is far grander than the borders of Fodlan. For students who know of little beyond their territories, the earthly knowledge of their professor is like an endless source of fairytales. On a cold night, however, Byleth proves the anecdotes he tells have more than enough evidence to back them up.

Byleth missed a good campfire. There weren't enough occasions for them. The monastery, as free as they let Byleth act, disliked such things. After all, the work they put into their gardens was immense. Having that all ruined in a single blaze would be disastrous. The closest Byleth seemed to get was Jeralt's fireplace. That was good enough for _them_ , but it lacked the atmosphere having the entire mercenary band gave.

When night fell during a mission, Byleth finally had an excuse.

The mission had been the eradication of a bandit hideout. Nothing too difficult, but it took the Golden Deer far from the monastery. With how late the informant had arrived, there was no other alternative but to prepare for a single night camp. Waiting for the morning and then travelling would risk the bandits moving their position.

Not that Byleth was complaining. Though the Golden Deer weren't _completely_ formed of nobles, the students lacked resilience. They were used to the luxuries of Garreg Mach. Hot food, accessible water, well-made shelter; they wanted for little. Some experience in the wild would be good for them.

Fortunately, most had accepted the situation quietly. Leonie and Claude had prior experience with camping out, while the others had few complaints. The two major (and only) objectors had been Lorenz and Hilda. Hilda had been easy enough to placate, with promises of the others handling the labour, but Lorenz was not so easily satisfied.

"I still find such lodgings inappropriate." The purple-haired boy continued to whine as he helped pitch the tents. If he had it his way, he wouldn't be anywhere near a tent, but Byleth had forced the boy into action. With Raphael helping him out, Lorenz wouldn't be _too_ quick to make a run for it. "We aren't that far from civilisation, surely? There must be _some_ residence capable of accepting us for the night. I would even settle for an inn."

"Numbers. We don't have the funds for our headcount." Byleth quickly denied, earning a disgruntled grumble. They were a group of nine, what did Lorenz expect? Even if they shared rooms here possible, Byleth wasn't exactly carrying much on him. Carrying a sizeable wallet into a _bandit camp_ was simply asking for trouble. "Also, survival skills. They will serve you well."

"After all, you ain't getting a feast like this in an inn, let me tell ya!" Claude was proud to boast, his and Leonie's bounty making a hefty thump as it hit the floor. "We got pretty lucky. The animals around here are pretty huge. We won't be wanting for food tonight."

Byleth gave an affirmative nod, trying his best to ignore his ears ringing. He would be surprised if Raphael's roar of approval didn't scare off everything nearby. It wasn't that they hadn't brought along rations, but they were hardly the nicest concoctions. With a greater emphasis on nutritional value over flavour, you'd be hard-pressed to find someone who liked them. With Leonie and Byleth, there was no reason _not_ to hunt.

"Good. Lysithea, start a fire. You and Marianne will be cooking with me." Byleth ordered, just in time for Ignatz to collapse under the wood he was carrying. Between the two people Byleth sent out, it should've been bearable. Then again, if Hilda refused to pitch a tent, she was _definitely_ going to refuse to heft wood. "Leonie, show Claude how to prepare the meat."

"You got it. Try not to throw up Claude."

"Heh, no promises."

Perhaps it wasn't the best of ideas to let Claude assist. With the size of the animals they hunted, there would be plenty of inedible parts. For a prankster such as Claude, it was a veritable treasure trove of material. Byleth wanted to believe Claude wouldn't resort to such squeamish pranks but… you could never tell with the leader of the Golden Deer.

"Professor? Um... do I really have to touch that?" Lysithea's question broke through Byleth's musings. Turning to the white-haired girl with a raised eyebrow, Byleth watched as the girl shuffled awkwardly under his gaze. "I'm… not exactly comfortable handling this sort of thing..."

"You will get used to it." Came the professor's blunt answer, as if it were obvious. For Byleth, it was – if a mercenary didn't get used to the survivalist's life, they left. With a mercenary's future always uncertain, one had to be prepared to rough it out. while everyone's skill level differed, every mercenary could cook, and do every other task. "In the field, you don't eat if you don't work. Tonight is the same."

If nothing else, Hilda suddenly appeared to be far more interested in her task. Having spent so long travelling, their lunch hadn't been the most satisfying of meals. If anyone had to skip dinner as well, they'd die. Conveniently, a new fervour entered everyone's bodies, the determination permeating the air.

"You well cause worse damage to your enemies. If you can handle their corpses, you can handle your food." Byleth absently added, washing his sword in the nearby water. Considering they didn't have any knives they would have to make do. An axe to cut through the bones, a short sword to do all the delicate work; that was all you needed. It wasn't the most elegant of methods, but they produced decent enough results. Pausing in his washing to see Lysithea cringe once more, a flash of inspiration had Byleth turning to Leonie. "Pass me the innards."

"Sure, Professor."

"Thank you. Lysithea, catch."

"Wha-!?" but Lysithea could not outmatch the professor's throwing arm. Before she knew it, Lysithea was faced with a mass of bloody organs, her already pale skin going even whiter. There was only a second for the man to cover his ears before a piercing scream filled the air, a burst of heat bringing sweat to the other student's brows. It was fortunate that Lysithea was sat so close to their intended fire. If nothing else, they at least had their warmth for the night prepared. "Professor! You can't just do that!"

"Hmm… the scent might attract nearby animals…" Byleth mused, completely oblivious to the embodiment of anger beside him. A pout came to Lysithea's face. With how straight Byleth's was, she had no clue whether he was genuine or actively ignoring her. "No matter. If we're cooking, the scent would attract anyway. There have been no animal sightings. Lysithea, you have now touched the organs. The meat will be cleaner. Can you cook now?"

"…That was horrible." She muttered in response, taking the short sword regardless. "I know a bit. I've watched the chefs at Garreg Mach and my family's servants were skilled. I should be able to do something. What about you Marianne?"

"I-I'll do my best! I'm not a good chef, but I think I can handle something small…"

* * *

It may have taken some time, but the pair managed to find a good rhythm. With Marianne carving their way through what few vegetables they brought and Lysithea (reluctantly) handling the meat preparation, Byleth could relax somewhat. Whether it would be enough to satiate Raphael was a different story, but that was an issue for _him_ to solve. Knowing the blond brawler, he had probably brought along more than enough sustenance in his supplies, just as a precaution.

It was nice, having a position of power. Whereas with the mercenaries Byleth would be right in the middle of the action now he could sit back and watch his students do all the hard work. It wasn't as if any of it was particularly difficult. Any mistakes made were more inexperience that genuine struggle. There was a special pleasure with delegating _any_ duty to another, however. Now Byleth could empathise with his father's satisfaction at overseeing the mercenary camp's operations.

There was no small sense of pride as well. Having guided these students, helped mould them into the people they were now… seeing them working so harmoniously and efficiently brought a strange swell to Byleth's chest. It wasn't as if Byleth didn't have experience leading. Jeralt had been trying to prepare Byleth to take the head role for a while now. The mercenaries were all fully grown however, they knew how to act even without a head. _Mostly_. These were different. The Golden Deer depended on him to show them the path: how to fight, how to survive how to _thrive_. There was a difference between leading just anyone and leading those you helped flourish.

With the tents soon assembled, food on the go and everyone settled down around the campfire, there was nothing to stop Byleth from basking in the warmth of the flames. If he could spend the rest of his days in this kind of bliss, Byleth doubted he would complain. With the stars gradually revealing themselves above, the night was proving to be picturesque. It seemed his companions, however, weren't as content to be idle.

"Well then, what now Teach? We've got the whole night to burn." Claude called from the other side of the fire, kicking the embers with a small snicker. He soon found Hilda's elbow in his stomach, the girl rolling her eyes as the leader of the Golden Deer began rolling around in false agony. "Okay puns aside, what do you guys do now? There has to be something special you did when you were camping?"

"Train. Tell stories. Drink. Sing." Byleth answered, unprepared for the massive smirk that plastered itself across Claude's face. "Is there a problem?"

"Teach, you never mentioned that you could sing!" Claude boldly accused. This time, however, it seemed that everyone else agreed. Every eye in the area immediately turned to the blue-haired man, Byleth undisturbed. "You can't just say that and not give us a show."

"You have all heard me sing before." The man pointed out rightfully so. After all, Garreg Mach was a monastery before it hosted the Officer's Academy. That meant all of the religious rites that came with it. Though students weren't _heavily_ pressured to participate in religious practices, some such as hymn recitals had been made one step away from mandatory. That meant everyone, including Byleth, had been made to sing multiple times by this point. "I don't see the fascination."

"This is different, Professor. In those recitals, everyone's voice gets drowned out. You can't make out individuals." Lysithea pointed out, the impish smile on her face almost matching that of Claude's. she knew full well how hard it was to make out anyone individually – it was part of the reason why she participated so willingly. "I do wonder what it's like to hear you sing. It'll be enlightening, for sure."

"…Very well." The man relented, something about Lysithea's expression tearing down whatever reservation he had. Pointedly ignoring the curious excitement of those around him, the man let his eyes fall shut. "There is one song. One I was taught during our journey. They came from outside Fodlan. Morfis. Their people used songs as magic. They taught me their songs as thanks."

"Songs… as magic?" Lysithea couldn't help but parrot. "But spells don't usually require a vocal incantation. At most, people would just call the name; nothing long enough to act as the basis of a song. What purpose would transcribing spells as music serve?"

"Memory. Songs are easily remembered. For longer rituals, where perfection is required. Songs are useful then." Byleth recalled fond memories floating to the front of his mind. How strange it had seemed, watching what was _supposed_ to be the creation of a barrier. With their intricate costumes, melodious harmonies and graceful dances, it was as much a form of entertainment as it was battle preparations. "Greater variety. Fodlan magic is limited. I have heard far more song-based spells. They are also stronger. Though longer, they allow communication with supposed spirits of Morfis' past. This empowers their spells."

"Music not only to praise the spirits but communicate directly with them? Sounds… somewhat questionable." Lysithea dismissed. It was to be expected. Out of them all, she was the one who placed the greatest emphasis on logic, rationality. The idea of being surrounded by beings beyond our comprehension didn't sit easily with people like her. It was why Lorenz was nodding from his position. "Besides, if such a system of magic exists, surely we would've heard of it here in Fodlan. It's not as if we don't do trade with them or anything. Someone must've come across it before you, Professor."

"Fodlan cares little. They are isolationist." Byleth immediately answered, the closest thing to a bitter tone you could get with the man. Such a vehement statement naturally surprised those gathered, only Claude remaining calm. "If it is a foreign weapon, it is weaker. If it is a foreign language, it is cruder. If it is a foreign custom, it is lesser. Fodlan looks down upon the countries surrounding. It is a shame."

Lysithea's protests were very quickly silenced. When it was phrased like that, she wasn't helping the situation, was she? If this had become a traditional art form in a different continent, there had to be a reason. To dismiss it without evidence would be idiotic, even if the history was rooted in less than empirical concepts.

"I understand it's not exactly fair to look down on it immediately. But you still have to give us a demonstration." Lysithea prompted, a content smile coming when Byleth gave a swift nod. He had no idea what to expect, yet just like everyone else, Lysithea prepared herself for a spectacular show.

And it was a show they received.

_Lay shon kahsenti ma rul hatishu..._

_dol gar qurento pan rei mu_...

 _Lay shon pomaruun ma rul hatiko_...

 _Ti fon yomidah ma gar Folentia_...

_ka-ah munagu hino sami ruto munagi doki ima,_

_l_ _a-tah munagu hino samil ruto munagi suenjo..._

_ka-ah munagu hino sami ruto munagi doki ima,_

_la-tah munagu hino samil ruto munagi suenjo..._

_ka-ah munagu hino sami ruto munagi doki ima,_

_la-tah munagu hino samil ruto munagi suenjo..._

_ka-ah munagu hino sami ruto munagi doki ima, l_

_a-tah munagu hino samil ruto munagi suenjo..._

_Lay shon kahsenti ma rul hatishu,_

_dol gar qurento pan rei mu_

_Lay shon pomaruun ma rul hatiko,_

_Ti fon yomidah ma gar Folentia_!

_Ma rul ketoyo eta,_

_ma pince linyi Folentia…_

_Ma rul ketoyo eta,_

_ma pince linyi Folentia, eta..._

_Lay shon kahsenti ma rul hatishu,_

_dol gar qurento pan rei mu_

_Lay shon pomaruun ma rul hatiko,_

_Ti fon yomidah ma gar dendo_

_Lay shon kahsenti ma rul hatishu,_

_dol gar qurento pan rei mu_

_Lay shon pomaruun ma rul hatiko,_

_Ti fon yomidah ma gar Folentia_!

_Ma rul ketoyo eta,_

_ma pince linyi Folentia…_

_Ma rul ketoyo eta,_

_ma pince linyi Folentia, eta..._

_Lay shon kahsenti ma rul hatishu..._

_dol gar qurento pan rei mu_...

 _Lay shon pomaruun ma rul hatiko_...

 _Ti fon yomidah ma gar Folentia_...

It was a beautiful tune, equal parts alien and familiar. It was quiet, yet thundering; a gentle ballad imbued with what could only be described as an ancient power. The longer the melody continued, the fire once dying gradually grew larger. Even the stars above became brighter, entranced by the flames dancing to the professor's song. What the students didn't notice was how the charm saturated the entire area, nothing escaping unscathed. The breeze once chilling became soothing, while the grass became ever more vibrant. it was only halfway through Byleth's song that miracle paused, a clear difference between that which was affected and that which wasn't.

Lysithea was only half focusing on her surroundings, however. What was far more impressive was Byleth's singing voice. Even if you ignored the literal magic his voice commanded, there was an undeniable power. How Byleth laced such a gentle song with such _authority_ was completely unknown to Lysithea. It wasn't even as if the man was trying particularly hard. Byleth performed with all the practised elegance of a professional, all while looking as if it took no effort at all. Dorothea would be jealous if news got out, to say nothing of Manuela.

It would take a few moments after the man finished for reality to return. Still entranced by his magic laden words, the Golden Deer were left blinking as the stars returned to normal and the flames died down. As soon as they recovered though, Byleth was met with rapturous applause. From the uncertain expression upon Byleth's face spoke volumes about how little he had been expecting it.

"That was… amazing!" Ignatz was the first to blare out, triggering a whole avalanche of comments from the rest. It was obvious that many would be praising the quality of the professor's voice. Lysithea was much the same but didn't mean her curiosity could go unattended for long.

"There was clearly an area of effect, I can feel the power sustaining itself even now! Professor, what was that spell?" the white-haired girl exclaimed unable to hide her awe.

Even now its mysterious presence remained the hairs on Lysithea's neck standing straight. How could such a sensation be so thrilling and comforting at the same time? The presence of magic surrounding her should've been terrifying. No spell Lysithea knew of left such a residue in the atmosphere. The only reason why the others were as calm as they were was that they were less sensitive to the power swirling around them. Lysithea, with her constant use of powerful magic, was much more attuned to its signature. Then again, the same could be said of Marianne, but she _always_ looked nervous.

"It was a wide-scale barrier. Another precaution. No one can enter, anyone can leave." Byleth explained, leaping to his feet and running towards the lake. Moments before he could enter the water however, an effervescent glow passed over the professor's body. It seemed to have little effect until Byleth suddenly withdrew his sword and rapidly swung at thin air. Rather than fly freely, however, it was stopped by a translucent shield, unyielding as it threw Byleth back. "We shall be safe from harm."

"But, Professor…?"

"Lysithea?"

"…How are you going to get back in?"


	14. Violent delights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: THIS IS A DIRECT SEQUEL TO VIOLENT ENDS.  
> Parting is such sweet sorrow, one that Byleth didn't wish to feel. Now a dammed saint, an honourable villain, he approaches a holy shrine where his mother once lay. He will defy the stars.

Abyss was a rather strange existence. Buried deep beneath the Garreg Mach Monastery grounds, it had become a sanctuary for those detested by the surface. The unsavoury folk, the misjudged, those in need of a new home; all were welcome within the chambers of Abyss. Despite the eclectic nature of its inhabitants, the underground civilisation had managed to flourish. The sprawling cityscape was a testament to that.

Byleth wandered through the darkened alleyways with a morbid curiosity. In the five years he had been lost to the world, Abyss was miraculously unchanged. It seemed that though time and war had ravaged the surface, few had the will to invade the depths. Even if they had, Abyss was no mere village. Byleth doubted even his skills would have him last long against the many skilled warriors that resided within.

It was why Byleth showed no hesitation in walking through the subterranean landscape. The troubles of the surface were things that Abyss need not pay attention to. For the people who had been forsaken by Fodlan, what cause had they to fight for it? The chances of being attacked were minimal – at least, being attacked regarding his allegiance with the empire.

"Professor Byleth Eisner. I thought you had abandoned us like the rest of the surface. What a surprise to see you crawling back." The familiarity of the voice made the man pause. There were only so many people who would refer to him so familiarly. It was why Byleth didn't respond with more than a sound of acknowledgement as he turned to face Yuri, the purple-haired man rolling his eyes in response. "I see you're still a man of few words. With all the rumours that we heard from the surface, I was pretty sure you were dead. Then again, you always did seem rather difficult to kill. What brings you down here?"

"Business. Plans must be put into action." Was Byleth's response, eliciting a raised eyebrow.

"A shame. I would have thought after all this time, you would want to see your Ashen Wolves." Came the teasing reply, only for Yuri's expression to harden. There was only so long he could drag out the genialities, after all. "Though it does beg the question… what business could you possibly have in Abyss that requires a corpse?"

There was silence between them as Byleth shifted his burden's weight. How was he meant to reply to a statement so bold? He could give the same excuse he had given to Edelgard, but was there any need? Yuri had no obligation to pass his words to the surface; any secrets spoken would remain firmly in Abyss. At least, that was what Byleth could only hope.

"I am surprised. None have questioned me before." Byleth noted. A glance showed most of the residents passing by without a single word, a reaction Yuri could only shrug at. "Does this not appear strange?"

"No stranger than most of the things that happen down here." Yuri casually replied, though a hint of bitterness tainted his tone. Byleth agreed; though he had tried to improve their conditions, it seemed his efforts were in vain. "We're all fighting for our lives, all the time. With the mess that's happening above us, things have only gotten worse. We're no strangers to dead bodies, not anymore. I won't be so easily diverted though, Professor. Explain yourself."

"…Our first meeting. Do you remember?"

"How could I possibly forget?" Yuri replied with a snort. "All of a sudden, these kids and their teacher from the surface came barging down here. Before we know it, everything we knew about Abyss gets completely thrown on its head. Something tells me you wouldn't treat this place as your personal mausoleum simply because you knew we would be here though."

Had Byleth been more prone to showing his emotions, perhaps a wry smile would've appeared. As it was, he settled for a small huff. After all, compared to his peers, Yuri always was the more cunning and intelligent of the Ashen Wolves. The years had only sharpened his wit. Even if the idea seemed unfathomable, Yuri had the intelligence to not dismiss his unspoken hypothesis so quickly.

"If it fails, then her body can be stored as my mother was," Byleth explained, beginning to take a step forward. The hand that fell on his shoulder wasn't strong enough to stop him, but Byleth was polite enough to pause. "Is there an issue?"

"You do recall what your little plan requires, Professor?" Yuri questioned in return, his face far from the jovial personality he displayed before. The geniality that had once masked Yuri's features had completely melted away, nought but unbridled determination left in its place. "Things can be pretty peaceful if you head to the right spots and the chalice is still safe under our guard. Those things you don't have to worry about. I'm sure you can see what I mean, then, when I say the final criteria is a little more difficult to accommodate."

"That is not an issue. I will not let such an obstacle stop me." At first glance, the words were spoken with Byleth's usual lack of emotion. For one as acute as Yuri, however, the determination within was as clear as day. It was only natural that he would draw his blade against the blue-haired man. So long as he carried the girl's body upon his back, there was no way for him to fight back. With the reverent manner that Byleth carried the corpse, he wouldn't so casually toss her body to the ground, even in self-defence. A noble manner, but foolish all the same. "You intend to fight?"

"There are still only four who bear the blood of the Four Apostles. Considering our experience with the Rite of Rising in the past, we're not exactly eager to have our blood drained again." It took all of Yuri's willpower to keep his voice as steady as it was. Even then, the blade in his hand continually twitched, ready to slash at any moment. Against an enemy as strong as Byleth, it was a necessary precaution. "I would've thought that with Aelfric's actions all those years ago, you would be wise enough not to attempt the same thing. It failed a thousand years ago, it failed five years ago, and it will fail with you. Better to just give up while you still can."

"You don't need to give up your life. That was the issue." Such a statement spoken so simply nearly had Yuri hesitating. Regardless, he couldn't stop the tip of his sword from dipping slightly. Taking the sign for what it was, Byleth continued to push forth with his explanation. "Your blood contains a certain level of magic. That's because of your crests. The Rite of Rising requires a large quantity of magic. Therefore, they thought they needed large amounts of blood. That's foolish. They required blood with a greater concentration of magic. Additionally, four different blood types fighting caused chaos. That created a beast of Aelfric. Using one blood type will prevent the magic from reacting badly."

That was… logical, in a strange manner. After all, there was no specific reason _why_ the Four Apostles' blood was required for the Rite of Rising. The texts in the Shadow Library had little to clarify, only that their blood had been deemed necessary. Considering that it had failed on two occasions, some might find such a statement difficult to believe. Of course, many would then point to the lacking quantity of blood used in both attempts, but that only helped another question arise. What difference did four litres make compared to two and a half if the crests alone were the requirement? After all, none of the Apostles' crests were related to resurrection in any manner. No, it could only be that the Apostles refused to use any other's blood, and that had been distorted into the Apostles' blood specifically being the requirement.

That still left one issue.

"That sounds all fine and dandy, but where in Fodlan do you think you can find blood like that? It's not as if you can just measure how much magic is in someone's blood." Yuri easily dismissed. "Even if you limited the search to people with crests, you have no way of determining who's got more magic in their veins. Besides, everyone on the surface is too busy with their war to give up their best magicians, and you're not going to find anyone worth a damn here in Abyss. Are you willing to risk becoming the monster Aelfric did?"

"It will not happen." Even an idiot would be able to understand Byleth's intention as he rolled up his sleeve. Gazing upon the scarred flesh placed on display, Yuri had no clue how to respond. Save for the rising of his eyebrows, words refused to come to his lips. "Do not underestimate me, Yuri. I will not let such an obstacle stop me."

* * *

The Chalice of Beginnings was a wondrous thing to gaze upon. Formed of gold with a wide variety of gems embedded within, it was a vessel worthy of being used in Sothis' name. That the jewels were all carefully selected magical gemstones carefully crafted in a pattern both beautiful and functional was simply a bonus. The Four Apostles who forged it had every right to be proud of the chalice. There was barely a soul alive who could even dream of replicating such a feat.

To know that such a precious item would soon be stained with his blood nearly brought a sense of disappointment to Byleth. If he were to be so easily swayed, however, he never would've descended to Abyss in the first place. It had taken countless hours of meticulous planning to ensure that none would notice his absence. The Professor wasn't exactly eager to throw all that effort away for the sake of preserving a single item.

Delicately placing the body upon the pedestal, Byleth couldn't help but reach out. With help from a small amount of ice magic, her body remained just as pristine as it had been in life. No longer pierced by the knife that ended her, the corpse's tender expression made for a scene straight out of a fairy-tale. A simple kiss would not bring her back to the waking world, though. If only it could be so simplistic.

"You don't have to do this." Yuri pressed once more, his plea falling upon deaf ears. Too busy placing the Chalice of Beginnings in the corpse's hands, Byleth refused to even acknowledge him. "You have no idea if this ritual could even restore her body, let alone the soul that's passed onto the next realm. There's no reason for you to believe this will work at all, Professor."

This kind of scene wasn't unfamiliar to Byleth. Far from it, Byleth could recall a perfect mirror to their current situation. A man, desperately attempting to revive the dead and those who tried to stop him. At that time, it had been Byleth who called for the perpetrator to stop. Now attempting the ritual himself, it nearly felt like a betrayal towards his mother. Unlike that time, however, the only sacrifice required was voluntary. With no one else endangered, there was little reason for Byleth to object this time.

It was clear that Yuri realised the same. Though his words reached out to prevent Byleth from enacting the Rite of Rising, Yuri did not move to physically hold him back. If the ritual failed once more, then the disappointment and blood loss would be punishment enough. Yuri's presence, if he could not sway the heart of Byleth, was to ensure that he didn't sacrifice his life in vain. The leader of the Ashen Wolves may not have been the best medic, but he had plenty of experience with healing magic. If the worst were to come about… then the other Ashen Wolves were on standby. They were ready to put their all into slaying the monster that would emerge.

"Prepare yourself, Yuri," Byleth said as he raised a knife to his wrist. So long as he cut true, the pain would only be minimal. Regardless, it was still pain in the end – the coming minutes would hardly be a pleasant experience. "You will bear witness to either a miracle or a nightmare."

"Something tells me the odds aren't exactly in your favour." Was all Yuri could reply with. It would explain why he was ready to draw his sword rather than cast any healing spells. Admittedly, if anyone else was in the same position, they would have the same reaction. None of the Ashen Wolves were ready to swoop in and stop Yuri, after all.

The important difference this time was that the other attempts hadn't been using blood infused with a goddess' power.

A sharp gesture was all that was required to have Byleth's blood flowing into the Chalice of Beginnings. At first, it seemed a fool's errand. As more and more of the precious liquid poured into the vessel, nothing changed. As his face grew paler, Byleth found his resolution wavering. It was a tiny amount - a minor sensation at the back of his mind – but he was far beyond the point of no return. The professor could only push his very being into the blood that came from his veins.

Unknown to anyone watching, the smallest tear began to form in Byleth's eye. Its origin was uncertain; in the history books, some would claim it love, and just as many would call it frustration. Regardless, Byleth was in no position to take note of it as the tear rolled down his cheek and fell. When it merged into the growing pool of blood, however, the glow it caused was much harder to ignore. Forced back at the intense light, Byleth could only watch in equal parts concern and awe as the entire Chalice of Beginnings took on a similar shine.

"…You lucky bastard…" Yuri muttered as his best healing magic went to work, but only half of his attention went to the act. He would've been an idiot to take his eyes away from the beams of light that shot from the Chalice, blood dissolving into pure magic that dove into the corpse beneath. When the subtle movements of its chest could be seen, Yuri's face didn't know how to react. "You actually made this death wish work."

Eyes bursting open, Lysithea gasped.

It was fortunate that the Chalice of Beginnings had emptied itself, for she surely would've poured the contents all over herself in her rush. Faced with unfamiliar surroundings and with her professor in a stranger's arms, it was only natural that Lysithea took up a combat stance as quickly as possible. With her body as weak as it was, however, her legs struggled to withstand her weight. It took less than a second before she was on her knees, barely able to breathe. Only when Byleth rushed over to her did Lysithea find the strength to speak.

"What… what happened? I died, I d-definitely died!" she gasped. The way she touched her skin, it was as if it would melt beneath her fingers. Though Byleth grasped her, the thought of being a ghost in someone else's body pervaded Lysithea's mind. "P-Professor? Where are we? Is this…?"

"Welcome to Abyss. I'd like to say we'd give you a warm welcome, but… I don't know how to react right now." Yuri muttered aloud, a wry grin appearing at Lysithea's confusion. "Your professor here just decided to partake in an incredibly dangerous ritual that threatened to drain him dry and/or turn him into a monster. Oh, did I mention that it's failed twice before?"

Faced with such a blunt greeting, Lysithea dissolved into nothing but stuttered mumbles. Suddenly, the blood staining Byleth's arm made sense. The strange location was somewhat more reasonable. Why she was holding a cup of all things became clear. She could hardly say that her mind was settled, but things were gradually falling into place. Despite that, it would still take several minutes for her heart to calm. Once it did, only one question could pass her lips.

"W-why?"

"I am your teacher, and you have much to learn. If I allowed you to sacrifice your life without knowing the truth, then I would be failing in my duties to you." Byleth stated, taking to his feet. To his credit, there was barely a tremble as he did so. Even healing magic couldn't restore so much blood without consequence, yet one would struggle to believe Byleth was in any pain at all. "To die for a false cause would hardly be a fitting end for one of your intelligence, Lysithea."

_"The sky is burning Lysithea. Cities are being turned to smoke and death, to song. Danger and injustice are plaguing this continent, and most are blaming different people for it." Byleth explained, the two practically touching as the man approached step by step, the white-haired girl's body frozen until they were practically touching. "We shouldn't be fighting. There is no reason for us to fight, for any person on this battlefield to fight. Yet we must, for they defend an evil they have been blinded to."_

"…You honestly killed me and went through a dangerous ritual to resurrect me, all for the sake of making a point?" Lysithea could only utter in disbelief. A quick pinch showed that it was no dream and from the evidence around her, the circumstances could not be denied. It was ludicrous. It was exactly the sort of unbelievable scenario Byleth would find himself in. "Fine. I'd be an idiot to say that you weren't certain of your truth after you've gone through all this. I should be way angrier considering you _killed me_ , but… I just can't be bothered anymore."

"Very well. There is a library here in Abyss. I shall show you the lies upon which Fodlan has been built."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As of this chapter, this story has reached the same stage it is in on Fanfiction.net. From now on, new chapters will be uploaded at the same time on both sites.


	15. Rational insanity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The memories weren't easily suppressed, but Lysithea managed well enough. Every now and then, however, the terrors of her past rampage within her mind. Such was the scene Byleth found himself walking into.

The hellish atmosphere before Lysithea had every right to be a nightmare. The alien technology plastered across the walls were more than enough to unnerve even the coldest of hearts. Implements waiting to claim their next souls were long since stained by the blood of their previous victims. The crust of unspeakable bodily fluids and flesh upon the ground seemingly fused into the walls, a by-product of the vicious experiments conducted within. Such sight could easily drive the coldest of hearts to fear – it _had_ done, the braver of the chosen few driven to insanity by the perverse evils that permeated those walls.

Lysithea was no different. A weak grip failed to stop the trembling in her arms, a foul combination of tears and sweat falling to the floor. The frail cloth that could barely be called a robe had already been dirtied far beyond recovery; there was no room in the purple-haired girl’s mind to care as another’s blood was smeared upon it as she fell. All that mattered at that moment was the monster before her and how to escape it.

Yet what was she to do? In the face of incomprehensible magic and blades that struck with inhumane accuracy, Lysithea was easy prey. Having never been the faster nor strongest of her family, she would be nought but a corpse by the time she reached the doorway. If the rumours she had come across were correct, perhaps she wouldn’t even have that much mercy shown. A single glimpse at the gore surrounding her brought forth tales of horrific creatures birthed from their kin to the front of her mind. In the face of such vile imagery, Lysithea’s body refused to move in anything more than a pained shiver.

The touch of bone upon her face chilled Lysithea, spindly fingers too thin to be healthy caressing her as if she were a doll. Her face threatened to curl inward at the foul scent of the man’s breath, yet Lysithea forced it into submission. Even the tiniest twitch could be construed as disobedience. Lysithea had seen the machines they use on the disobedient children, and she _never_ wanted to see them again.

“One last chance… I’d hate to consider this a failure after all the effort we’ve spent.” The words sent a shiver running down her back, crooked teeth revealed in a wrinkled smile at Lysithea’s discomfort. It wasn’t so unreasonable a reaction, looking back. Surely one who was wicked enough to concoct such inhumane experiments would find pleasure in their suffering. “We’ve come so far, there’s just _one missing factor_! I’m certain of it! And you, my darling, are the key to completing this puzzle. Doesn’t that make you so _excited_?”

Lysithea wouldn’t have the chance to respond, for her throat was clutched in a hand far too muscular to belong to her tormentor. Desperately turning her glance upwards, a choked gasp was all the purple-haired girl could manage as she saw the pale figure warp and distort, grotesque muscles bulging until nothing remained but a bloodied beast. Hurled through the crumbling floor with immense force, Lysithea could only widen her eyes as the world melted around her.

Left in a barren void, all control left Lysithea. Helplessly watching as red, blue and green left her veins, it took all her effort to prevent her organs from escaping their broken cage. Life leaked from her wrists and love, from her chest. The colours sought to drive her insane. If Lysithea had been subjected to them any longer, she very well may have lost her mind.

The voices would not let Lysithea escape her torment so easily.

**“Found your hiding place!”**

The first ghost tore at her skin, burgundy and vermillion flying free of melted skin. The second roared and joined, staring upon crystal eyes with tainted love. Every soul that Lysithea had ever known, had ever lost, leapt into a wild fray. They were starved, and the sight of such precious meat forced their hands. With what little strength remained, Lysithea reached out gentle hands, only to find her

* * *

arm clipped off. She tried to speak, but all that came was an anguished howl.

**“Rise from bed, my darling. Let me see you again. Let me _kill you again!_ ”**

**“Numb your senses! Tighten up that playful smile!”**

**“Eat up! If you’re lucky, you will _rot_!”**

**“I’ll reclaim what’s rightfully mine! My tomorrow shall be built upon your flesh!”**

Their voices became a cacophony, grating upon shattered ears. Lysithea no longer had a mouth that could reply. Stripped down to her core, the thin love within was bare for all to see. Lost in a cloud of scarlet, cyan and white, her being was but spilt wine.

The violence was familiar. Though painful beyond measure, the touch of their fingers remained bittersweet. As they broke her down to the cell in their anguish, Lysithea could feel no anger for them. They merely envied the warmth to her hands. Even if her hair grew unruly and her brain merged with the world, Lysithea was still alive – that made her the perfect human in their eyes.

Quaffed down along with the pus of thoughts, the bucket of love that was Lysithea found itself swelling as it evolved.

* * *

Lysithea had to stifle her cry as she shot up from the bed. Though the moonlight was harsh upon her exhausted eyes, the white-haired girl lacked the strength to be annoyed. All she could was sit silently, taking in the warmth of her surrounding as much as possible. There was no blood to be seen, no ghosts seeking her death. Those who experimented upon her were long gone… or at least, they weren’t so foolish as to attack her within Garreg Mach’s walls.

That didn’t stop her from screaming at the knock upon her door. The rational part of her brain quickly reminding Lysithea that a kidnapper wouldn’t knock, however, quickly had her scrambling to open the door. Even so, the trembles wracking her body refused to settle as she turned the handle, sweat dripping as she was greeted by nothing.

“H-hello? Is someone there?” she hesitantly called out, her voice trapped somewhere between a whimper and a whisper. It was hardly the most professional of responses, but reaching her typical collected state would require far more energy than Lysithea could muster. Fortunately, her surprise visitor didn’t seem too off-put by the uncharacteristic question.

“Indeed. A gho-” Byleth began, only to receive a glimpse of his charge’s face. Though it didn’t show on his features, the words now far too playful died upon his lips. “It is your Professor. I heard strange noises. Are you okay?”

“I… have seen better nights.” Was all the white-haired girl managed to mumble. Considering how haggard her appearance was, Byleth would’ve been blind to believe otherwise. It was why he didn’t speak as he grabbed Lysithea by the arm, the girl’s cry of surprise silenced by the closing door. Nought save the owls outside her window got to hear Lysithea’s yelp as she was held within the professor’s grip, only to be silenced as she was gently placed in her bed. “P-Professor? What are you doing? Y-you can’t just barge into a woman’s room on a whim like that!”

“You have had a nightmare. You would bottle those feelings up. Many would.” Byleth easily replied, shifting the curtains so that a ray of light shone upon the knife he inspected. To engage in strange behaviour like that as if it were ordinary, Lysithea’s professor was proving himself stranger by the day. “Bottled emotions can lead to stress. Stress can lead to poor performance. Poor performance can lead to death. It’s better to share.”

“And you think I would share my feelings with you? Not only a teacher, but one who I’ve known for a matter of days at most?” Lysithea bit back. While she may not have fully recovered, the absurdity of the situation did much to sober the white-haired girl. “I will tell you this much, Professor. There are things I have yet to share with my classmates, let alone what essentially amounts to a stranger. If you believe I would so easily come crying into your arms, then you are greatly mistaken.”

“…I know. If I weren’t a stranger, I wouldn’t approach.” The dismissive reply caused Lysithea’s eyebrow to rise, Byleth giving a gentle shrug. With the way he casually flipped the knife in his hand, he should’ve cut an intimidating figure. At that moment, however, Byleth looked more inviting than he ever had before. Lysithea blinked owlishly – with thoughts like that, perhaps she needed to get her head checked out. “That is the important part. If you told your classmates, they would remember. They would look at you and remember what you said. Maybe, they would treat you differently. Telling is a risk. Depending on the person, leaks are possible.”

“And are you implying that telling you would be any different?” Lysithea dismissed in turn. “You speak as if you are not in the same position. As a professor, you are duty-bound to report anything of concern to your higher-ups. Is that not true? We must face each other every day; what is to say you would not gaze upon me was others would?”

If there was any response she was expecting, it wasn’t the scoff that came from Byleth’s lips. Nor was Lysithea prepared for the knife that plunged into the wood just beside her head. If she had been even a centimetre to the left, she wouldn’t have survived such a wound.

“Indeed, I am a professor. Before that, I am a mercenary. This is a job like every other.” Byleth slowly explained. Leaning back, it was plain to see why he was titled the Ashen Demon. Shrouded in darkness without an ounce of emotion in his voice, it was as if Hell had sent Byleth to the surface. “Should someone pay me greater, I will not hesitate to end your lives. So long as nobody does, I have no reason to harm you. Do you understand what that implies? I do not _care_ enough to tell. I do not care enough to remember. Unless you wish me to, I have no reason to act on or even acknowledge your words beyond tonight.”

His voice may not have contained any emotion, but the words alone were more than frosty. Lysithea wasn’t going to challenge them though. He was but a member of the Bladebreaker’s mercenaries, a man roped into being a professor for reasons even _he_ didn’t seem to comprehend. It wasn’t a massive leap in logic to assume Byleth would have little reason to worry for the children thrust into his care. From how brazenly the blue-haired man had thrown the knife now lodged in Lysithea’s wall, it wasn’t difficult to envision him taking down the entire year. With so many sons and daughters of nobles, it wasn’t impossible that someone could be willing to pay the price.

Despite that… revelations as worrying as those somehow managed to put Lysithea’s anxiety at ease. Perhaps it was the ruthless logic that dictated Byleth’s words. They certainly lent credence to Byleth’s claim of not caring enough to spread the information. Regardless of the implications, Byleth’s reasoning made him a more inviting choice compared to any of the other Garreg Mach staff. If Lysithea restricted the knowledge she provided to the basics, then there was no reason to suspect he would discover the truth. 

“Alright then. There are times where… I’m haunted by the souls of my family. Those who failed to survive the… times where we were attacked, kidnapped.” It was strange, to say the least. Lysithea expected there to be a lot more struggle trying to force the words out. Much to the contrary, they seemed to flow from her lips without much issue. The white-haired girl liked to think the surprise hadn’t been shown on her face, but Byleth’s quiet noise of acknowledgement didn’t make it likely. “House Ordelia is no stranger to being attacked. Those within the Golden Deer assume that I’m an only child; in truth, my other siblings have all died. Some peacefully… some less so.”

And she could still hear the whirs of incomprehensible technology merging with their dying screams. Sweet voices soon choked by their own blood as their flesh was mutilated beyond reason. Those who died quickly were blessed; treated as possible successes, those who survived could only look forward to further inhumanity. The echoing cascade of noise threatened to crack her skull open.

Lysithea never realised that she was hyperventilating until she felt a strong grip fall across her. Looking from the arm now hugging her to the stoic face of Byleth, Lysithea bit back the sound of fear that threatened to burst forth. Even if he wasn’t the friendliest of people, his body was still warm. So long as he was offering, Lysithea might as well bask in it while she could.

“I understand your pain. I have witnessed many die. Assassination, battle, age – I have seen much.” Byleth muttered and perhaps it was a mere mirage, but Lysithea would swear there had been a hint of bitterness to his face. In less time than it took to blink however, there was only the blue-haired man’s usual stoniness to be found. “I envy you somewhat.”

“That’s hardly something I want to be hearing.” Lysithea pouted, curling into herself. If Byleth was annoyed by the way she subconscious pushed closer to him, he didn’t show it. His eyes were too busy lost in the distance, watching a battle long gone.

“In the world of mercenaries, we cannot grieve. Our lives are constantly at risk.” Byleth muttered. “We cannot afford to show emotion at death. It is a constant. People come and go like the breeze. You can feel the pain of your loved ones. You carry them in your heart. That is something to be happy for.”

“I… suppose that’s correct.” Came the gently muttered response. “Even if the nightmares aren’t welcome, the thought of forgetting my family… that would be a horror beyond words. To view people as expendable – I don’t think I could ever attain that mindset.”

“You shall not need to. An open heart is no weakness. It is natural to grieve.” Byleth was quick to agree. One would expect he would show a little more ambivalence, especially considering Byleth’s extreme stoicism. From the way he talked, it was almost as if he couldn’t show any more emotion, a golem envying its creator. “It is also important to find the best way to grieve. Talking to me may make no difference. Pour your feelings into a letter, sing, dance, garden – everyone grieves differently. My father used to take me fishing when someone died. He said it was for me. It never really was.”

That wouldn’t be too difficult. If there was one thing about Garreg Mach other than the Officer’s Academy, it was the sheer variety of activities available to students. With the freedom granted to its residents, it was almost a case of simply asking. There were many a case where the food in the dining hall had been partially prepared by students, for better or for worse.

“Maybe… it’s expensive to enter, but I could try going to the sauna. Apparently, it’s one of the best in all Fodlan.” Lysithea mused with a yawn. There had only been positives coming out of the fortunate few who had managed to procure a rare ticket. not only was the sauna beyond bliss, but the monastery had decided to surround it with a whole selection of other beauty services. It mattered not if the price for entering the sauna was near ridiculous, the experience was no doubt worthy of its investment. “Nothing could be… more relaxing than a spa day.”

“Would you like me to procure a ticket?” Byleth’s question caused Lysithea to sleepily turn her eyes up, only to be met by complete seriousness. “They offer a staff discount. It is unlikely that I will use it. Might as well let another benefit.”

“Are you serious, Professor? They’re still… expensive.” Lysithea questioned, earning herself a curt nod. “That would be amazing. You can’t take your… offer back now… understand?”

“I shall do my best to secure one in the morning. Do not boast about it. I fear there will be concerns if news broke out.” Byleth warned. As exhausted as her mind was, Lysithea couldn’t stop the chuckle that came at such an image. With the fearsome figure her professor cut, the thought of him being scolded like a child by the Archbishop was entertaining beyond measure.

Byleth watched silently as slumber took the girl, the fear across her face melted away in place of no small amount of amusement across her face. Hopefully, that would be adequate enough to fend off the nightmares for a single night. Come the morning, it was up to Lysithea to ensure the rest of her nights passed as peacefully.

“…What an unfortunate position.” It took several seconds, but Byleth’s quandary quickly made itself apparent. With how Lysithea had fallen asleep, she was practically falling across his lap. While manhandling the child would be no difficult task, it would be a step back if Byleth were to awaken her again. As he glimpsed to the moon outside the window, the smallest of sighs could be heard. “Very well. I suppose there is little choice.”

It wasn’t the most comfortable of sleeping positions, but it was far nicer than some of the ways in which Byleth had to sleep with the mercenaries. The plush mattress beneath him practically beckoned him to the sleeping realm the second he relaxed his senses. In barely a breath, both adult and child were lost to, if not _entirely_ pleasant dreams, dreams far sweeter than they would’ve had alone.

It was fortunate that Byleth was the first to awaken come the morning. One didn’t need to be a genius to understand the pain that would be awakening to Lysithea’s scream of embarrassment.


	16. Master of Disguise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth finds himself in charge of a mission that sends him deep into Kupala territory. The issue? The only way he's getting in is with a disguise. Fortunately, Hilda's here to help, and Lysithea's here to watch.

"It's time. Make me a woman."

"How forward. Are you sure you want this?"

"Of course. I can't afford to wait any longer."

"I see. Shall we get comfortable then? No need to rush something this intimate."

Lysithea had only gone out to get a snack before bed. To hear such sordid chatter, amongst the students of all things! The impropriety threatened to make Lysithea explode in embarrassment. She could only thank the Goddess that the shadows shrouded the wine-red tinge upon her face. It was natural, then, that Lysithea's first reaction was to dash as far away from the crime scene as possible.

Yet a single realisation brought Lysithea to a standstill. The longer she listened to the banter, the less she could deny just who those voices belonged to. There could be but one pair who could speak with such surprisingly mellifluous monotone and silvery seductive sound. Her mind immediately flooded with unspeakable imagery, the already fluorescent blush on Lysithea's face threatened to rival the sun. No longer was this merely a case of students messing around – Lysithea had stumbled on the beginnings of a forbidden relationship, one that could cost their positions at Garreg Mach if they proceeded too far. Surely, she was honour-bound to stop them from making mistakes they couldn't undo?

Admittedly, perhaps there was a more subtle manner of doing so than charging through the door.

"No, you can't do this! Byleth's a professor, you'll get…expelled… Hilda…?" Lysithea's shrill shriek found itself silenced as she glanced to the scissors held in Hilda's hands. She could hardly consider herself an expert when it came to intimate relationships, but something was telling her that scissors typically weren't involved. In fact, the room looked more like a hairdresser than the scene ripped out of a romance novel Lysithea expected. The make-up was easily explained as Hilda's, but the wigs that just so happened to be the same shade as Byleth's hair? Those were a little harder to rationalise. "…I don't know whether this is better or weirder than what I was expecting."

"Well, there goes this being a discrete little operation." Came Hilda's dry remark. "Never expected someone to just charge straight through the door, but oh well. Care to share, Professor?"

"…One more will not hurt." Byleth eventually replied, his face just as stoic even as carefully manicured fingers began combing through his hair. Such a sight was unrivalled in its ridiculousness, yet Lysithea lacked the will to comment. Doing so would only lead to the situation growing even more awkward – something to be avoided at all costs with the already growing headache welling in her mind. "I shall be leaving the monastery in the morning. There have been rumours of the House of Kupala's Lord. He has a curse that bewitches women. Numerous houses have reported missing women."

Byleth's words brought a grimace to Lysithea's lips. She knew those rumours all too well; there was a reason why the Ordelia family never strayed too close to Kupala territory. Paired with the… _esoteric_ way that they dealt with conflict, Lysithea had more than enough reason to keep her distance through her childhood. That the rumours were evidenced was only the cherry on the cake. Honestly, it was a surprise the Kupala family had managed to avoid detection for so many years with how unsavoury their reputation had become. Then again, when you were one of the Leicester Alliance's main weapon and armour providers, people are rather hesitant to openly make an enemy of you.

"I see. After the war broke out, the Kupala family's businesses have been forced to work overtime to keep up with the demand. I assume you're meant to use the distraction to do some private investigating?" Lysithea muttered in response, answered by Byleth's silent nod. "Okay, that's easy enough to understand. Doesn't explain the whole 'wig and make-up' situation going on though. Or the weird way you were talking to each other…"

"From what Marianne's family told her, the Kupalas have _randomly_ decided to stop doing face-to-face business with the usual trading companies. All deals with them have to go through messenger, and then they'll send out one of their men to make the delivery. They _say_ it's to prevent people from taking out the Alliance's best blacksmiths, but considering the other stories floating around, they couldn't be more blatant." Hilda said with a scoff. A good thing too, for it served wonders in hiding Lysithea's final comment. "No face-to-face contact, yet a growing amount of female 'visitors'? practically screams dodgy dealings if you ask me. So, you need to get someone who won't be affected by whatever magic the Kupala family's messing around with, but will actually be let through the door. When you have to be a man for the first half and a woman for the second, there's only one way forward."

It wasn't a difficult deduction. Far from it, the answer couldn't have come to Lysithea any faster. That didn't mean Lysithea could so easily accept it. Even as she watched the gradual transformation happening before her, the insanity of the situation refused to settle. It took all her willpower to restrain herself to simply palming her face.

"So you mean to tell me that the Professor is going to infiltrate the Kupala territory, put a stop to whatever curse they're using to attract women and free whoever's been enslaved by it… while _crossdressing_?" Lysithea sighed. It had all the makings of the perfect spy drama as well! To have such a thrilling scene ruined by the mental image of Byleth in a dress with a terrible fake voice… she would never be able to look upon the man the same ever again. "Not to be rude, but are you sure this is going to _work_? I wouldn't exactly call the Professor the most… conspicuous of people. You've got a pretty deep voice and a masculine build; that's not going to be so easily disguised with a wig and make-up."

"Really? But I've been trying so hard to fit in with everyone. It's not like I wanted to stick out so much!"

"… _What_?" Hilda's lips hadn't moved and there was no one at the door. When Lysithea peeked through the window, she was met by darkness and little else. There simply shouldn't have been anyone who could've spoken in such a rich feminine tone. Yet as Byleth stood with a teasing smile that certainly did _not_ belong on his face, Lysithea found her lips drying as the truth settled.

"Everyone's just way too judgemental nowadays. Seriously, I can't even eat without hearing everyone gossiping about me!" In a manner of seconds, the man's actions had completely transformed, Byleth easing into a stance better suited for Manuela with unsettling ease. even Hilda was left without words as Byleth laid back against the bed, checking his nails for chips in invisible paint. "You'd think with all of the crazy stuff happening, they'd have better things to worry about. Can't say I blame them though; it takes their minds off the depressing stuff."

"…Okay, I'm going to need some brain bleach." Hilda was the first to remark, a teasing groan met with a playful punch from her professor. If Lysithea didn't know any better, she would've thought they had been friends for years with how intimately they acted. That a cough brought back Byleth's usual stoicism in less than a second only served to make the white-haired girl's headache even worse. "But really Professor, let me do my work before you do that. I don't think I could ever take you seriously again if I keep hearing that voice."

"Alright. I guess I'll just keep practising my emotions then." Though his voice thankfully lacked the femininity it bore before, hearing such happiness come from Byleth's mouth was still unsettling. "I don't get that many infiltration missions anymore. I haven't had to put these acting skills to good use in ages!"

"I must admit, I'm a little confused," Lysithea muttered. Honestly, a statement like that didn't even come close to encompassing Lysithea's current mindset, but there was no need to so recklessly voice it. "Professor, a huge portion of the students here were initially put off by your stoicism. Don't you think your life would've been easier had you acted like this from the start? I know _I_ would've felt a little more reassured if you spoke as kindly as you are now."

"Can't you tell, Lysithea?" a hint of sorrow penetrated Byleth's words, the man's eyes falling as Hilda continued to work on him. "This isn't me. This is just some makeshift amalgamation of the people I've come across in my life. Every emotion they've ever shown on their faces, ever voiced, ever shown in through their bodies. All fused into a chimeric mask. Do you think I would've been able to talk like before without being influenced by Hilda, Manuela, Dorothea? Can you hear the pieces of Caspar and Claude in my voice right now? It might not have been too bad in the short term, but over time? A mask like this can be more terrifying than how people normally see me. At least with how I normally act, they see it as Byleth being Byleth. Once you realise how fake this act is, you can only wonder what's hiding underneath."

Lysithea had to rub her eyes to make sure they weren't deceiving her. Though she tried her best to focus on his words, the plastic nature of his smile was simply too unnerving to ignore. How seamlessly Byleth's artificial visage merged into his flesh, glass eyes only able to attempt to reflect life within them. At that moment, Byleth looked no different from a homunculus running through a routine. Algorithmically sorting through a database of reactions, playing each one as the scenario demanded with unerring accuracy. Byleth might as well have been made of metal.

Yet when she blinked, it disappeared without a trace. A stone-like expression had taken its place, Byleth's eyes as unreadable as ever. On anyone else, it would seem inhumane. It was only now that Lysithea realised just how much more natural it was compared to the alternative. Fortunately, such heavy thoughts were quickly shunted aside as Hilda gave a satisfied sound, a quick flick of her hands releasing the flowing locks she held. Faced with her professor now sporting the most ill-suited of hairstyles, how could Lysithea ever focus on anything else? The giggles escaped before either girl could think of stopping them.

"Oh my Professor, you look positively _gorgeous_!" Hilda gradually managed to voice, reaching for seemingly countless boxes and containers sitting patiently on the desk beside them. "Once we get some of this on you, hopefully, we'll be able to mask some of the rougher aspects of your face. The whole thing will blend in far more naturally then."

Despite the ridiculous nature of the situation, Lysithea had to give Hilda respect. With nothing but a brush, the rugged jawline of the professor seeming melted away. As the minutes passed, the carefully crafted smile upon his face paired with astonishingly altered features meant that Lysithea almost struggled to believe that a man had been sitting their originally. Add that to the specially tailored outfit Byleth had brought along and perhaps even someone like Sylvain might have found themselves falling for Byleth.

"I never thought I'd say this, but I'm getting a bit jealous of your clothes. Where do you even find tights like these?" Hilda grumbled good-naturedly as she placed the fabric against her legs. "I haven't seen anything like this pattern. You _have_ to tell me who this tailor is so I can get something made."

"That would be difficult. He came from Dagda. Fodlan's barriers are tighter thanks to the war." Byleth's drew two very different response; from Lysithea came a small hum of curiosity, while Hilda's drawn-out exaggerated groan threatened to overwhelm it. "He was a poorer man. So long as there was money, he'd do anything. He made the wig as well."

"That you'd have a tailor specially design a woman's armour for you on the off-chance that you would have to disguise yourself as a woman, you _are_ prepared for anything," Lysithea commented in turn, gently stroking the torso piece. The construction was no joke; though it was clearly meant to accentuate certain… _curves_ , the armour wasn't compromised in any manner. Not only was the metal thick enough for adequate protection, not a single spot was unnecessarily revealing for the sake of sexuality.

Though Lysithea was no genius when it came to the art of blacksmithing, there had been plenty of times where she'd seen so-called 'female armour' put onto the market. Needless to say, the focus on drawing eyes through exposed skin when the whole point was to _defend_ someone hadn't exactly sat well with many people. Even those pieces that didn't show such blatant misogynistic design proved near useless in battle, their metal far too thin on the grounds of women apparently being unable to wear the heavier pieces. How entertaining it had been when a passing warrior had approached and proved one such blacksmith wrong in a straight-up brawl.

Lysithea's admiration quickly came to a halt when her fingers slipped within the armour, her hand quickly flinching as it encountered an alien texture. Releasing the armour as if it had bitten her, Lysithea was lost for words as two flesh coloured lumps suddenly fell out from within, their gelatinous forms bouncing upon the ground.

"And what are _those_ meant to be?" she asked, her disgust oozing from every word. Far from her disgusted reaction, Byleth easily handled the lumps, digging his fingers into the material before acting in a manner no one would expect of the straightforward professor.

"Fake breasts." As if thinking his words were insufficient, Byleth followed by placing the lumps upon his chest, Lysithea left spluttering. "You could hear if the armour was hollow. Adding metal would be too heavy, so these were crafted."

"Fake breasts, huh? Maybe you should give them a try Lysithea." Caught off guard by the teasing words, Lysithea could only give a surprised yelp when Hilda grabbed her shoulders from behind. Though the statement alone was enough to bring a healthy colour to Lysithea's face, Hilda's chest pushing against her back made her blush exponentially worse. When they had first met, Hilda had already been healthy for her age and the years had done nothing to halt her growth. Compared to Lysithea… it was a miracle that she managed to restrain her embarrassment enough to not intuitively punch her friend in the face.

"You've been spending way too much time with Claude." Unable to express her true thoughts, Lysithea was forced to settle with just a mutter.

"Well then, I'm ready. How do I look?" turning at the return of Byleth's womanly voice, all other irritations faded away. The voice alone had been freaky, the wig and make-up unsuited for the man's build. All together with the professor's new outfit, however? It was as if the Goddess had never made Byleth a man in the first place. To the smallest detail, nothing of Byleth's original appearance remained save for the hair and eye colour. Even then, it would take a fool to try and claim they were the same. If it weren't for Lysithea and Hilda witnessing the transformation first hand, they too might've fallen prey to Byleth's looks.

It was at that moment that Lysithea realised that of the trio, her chest was the smallest. Fortunately, only a slight twitch of her eyebrow showed her annoyance.

"It's definitely convincing. I'm pretty sure you could walk around outside and everybody would be fooled at first. For people who don't know you, they'd have no reason to suspect you're in a disguise." She eventually praised.

"Just be careful. With the way the boys act around here, you might end up taking over the competition for most beautiful in the monastery." Then warned Hilda, accompanied by a teasing wink. "I'd like to think I had a pretty nice lead, so I don't need any rivals."

"Don't worry. I'll be leaving for Kupala as soon as possible, so there shouldn't be time for anyone to see me." Byleth answered, confidence present to the professor's typically cautious stance. "I shouldn't be too long; no longer than the travel time plus a day or two. Try and make sure that the monastery doesn't burn down in my absence or something, okay? Don't worry, I'll make sure to pay back for your assistance Hilda."

"Bye Professor!" Byleth barely had the time to leave the room before Hilda broke down on the spot, laughter erupting seemingly without end. Faced with such a sight, Lysithea soon found herself joining her, sinking into Hilda's mattress. "So, should we feel nervous that our professor may be more of a woman than we are?"

"More disturbed, frankly. The faster I can get this experience out of my mind, the better." Lysithea couldn't help but reply, shaking her head in desperation. While it certainly helped elevate a boring evening, it was hardly a night Lysithea would be eager to go through again. "For someone so remarkably emotionless, he acts his part very well."

"Aw, come on Lysithea! You're jealous that he has bigger boobs than you."

"…"

"Um, Lysithea? I didn't quite hear what you said." Hilda's amusement quickly faded as she saw the white-haired girl's eyes close, her hands coming together in a way that brought a shiver to Hilda's spine. "Lysithea? Are you okay?"

"…Delta."

"R-remember that we're friends right, we can joke with each other. No harm, yeah?" but it was already too late, for the glow in Lysithea's didn't exactly scream mercy. Well, that and the mass of dark magic already forming within her hands.

"Miasma Delta!"

Lysithea wasn't so cruel; no matter how flashy the spell looked, the actual power behind it was minimal at best. Regardless, it would soon be common knowledge that talking of Lysithea's… size was an act that courted death.


	17. Qui vivra verra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Humanity has always thirsted for knowledge. Many times, however, such knowledge has come at a cost. Curiosity killed the cat and, as Lysithea would soon come to learn, many other people as well.

It wasn't rare to find books on Byleth's table. On days where the rain had forced everyone indoors, there was scarce else the man could do to pass the time. The weekend meant there were no classes, lunch had yet to be prepared and places like the cathedral and training grounds were packed with restless students. Without the money or the desire to waste time in the sauna, the only option was to retreat to the privacy of his accommodation, digging into whatever grimoires and encyclopaedias Byleth could take from the library. They were a comfort, reassuring a man educated by blood and battle that he had the academic knowledge to properly teach his students.

The selection Byleth had chosen that day, however, wasn't exactly syllabus material. To even suggest it would probably horrify the vast majority of Garreg Mach residents. There was a reason why those books had been held in a place long forgotten by the surface. A lingering sense of morbid curiosity though kept Byleth glued to the pages. So much so that if it weren't for the gentle voice within his mind, Byleth may very well have ignored the impatient knocking upon his door.

Needless to say, a drenched Lysithea wasn't a particularly happy one.

"Do you mind if I come in, Professor?" it may have been phrased as a question, but there wasn't exactly much of a choice. Having clung as close to the door as possible to spare herself from the rain, Lysithea was stepping through before Byleth had the chance to speak. There was a time and place for pleasantries – neither of them involved rain. "I was hoping you could assist me with some of the questions you've set me. I can't make head nor tails of what you're actually _asking_ of me."

"…Very well. Allow me a few moments to tidy." Byleth responded, punctuated by a sharp flick of his wrist.

One would assume the resulting wind magic would be used to clean up the pile of books sprawled across Byleth's bed and desk. Having already witnessed such a sight, Lysithea didn't react much to the gesture. Unfortunately, that meant the girl was completely defenceless when the violent gust rushed towards her, a childish yelp escaping as she tried to stand strong.

"Wh-what on _earth_ was _that_?" Lysithea spluttered in disbelief, a shiver passing down her spine as she recovered. When Byleth responded by turning back with a dispassionate gaze, it took all her strength to withhold her indignation.

"You are drier, are you not?" came the stoic response, Lysithea left flapping her lips uselessly as the professor took his seat. When a few experimental taps confirmed that her clothes had lost most of their water, that dumbfounded nature only grew. If it weren't for Byleth's gentle wave towards the bed, she might have remained in that state for who knew how long. As it was, a quick slap to her cheeks brought Lysithea back to reality. "I apologise for the temperature. I've tried to make it more pleasant. it's not as if I can just use fire magic to make it warmer though. Regardless, your question?"

"An Experiment Regarding Warp Technology?" yet Lysithea's attention lay not with the professor, but the worn-out cover sitting beside her. Too absorbed in taking care not to further the damage, the momentary grimace upon Byleth's face went unnoticed as Lysithea began to flip through the pages "Automating teleportation… Extending the range… Everything in here has either been debunked or disproven for several decades."

"Debunked implies failure." Was the simple reply, Byleth plucking the book out of Lysithea's hands with little effort. An attempt would've been made to recover it, if Lysithea wasn't certain that Byleth's dexterity didn't far outclass her own. Even if it were possible, it wasn't her property in the first place. Though Byleth may have been more relaxed when it came to sharing his research and pastimes, needlessly pestering a higher authority for private texts to satiate her curiosity didn't sit well with Lysithea. The only reason Lysithea had done so in the first place was that it was far from the first time. Any other staff member would've had her head for taking one of their texts. "People appear to have assumed verifiability. They didn't realise a falsifier had been found."

"What are you talking about? There have been dozens of attempts to do these kinds of things and they've failed every single time. Don't tell me you're trying to do the same." She scoffed. Just as gravity kept objects glued to the ground and heat produced flame, the laws determining teleportation magic had long been cemented. When hundreds – if not thousands – of magical researchers had failed to find exceptions, there was little reason to continue trying. No matter how many random and insane antics Byleth managed to get into, even _he_ couldn't defy rules set in stone.

"Not me. A man named Charles Fort." Byleth replied, looking down to the book in is hands. "The eighteenth of the Ethereal Moon, imperial year twelve. A device was made to instantaneously transport several people. The destination was said to be unrestricted. Distance would not be an issue. It would absorb ambient magic from the atmosphere. People laughed at it, and then it succeeded."

"Impossible. If a device like that existed, knowledge of it wouldn't be limited to some rotting book. There's no way I'd be able to keep it quiet if I made a breakthrough like that. The profit would be endless, you'd have people scrambling from across the globe for one if it was being sold." Lysithea pondered, leaning forward on the bed. The questions she had intended to ask could wait – a potential game-changer lost to time was far more intriguing. "Besides, if you're not working with two magic circles connected with one another, you wouldn't have the necessary space to engrave a specific location, let alone have a selection available. You just wouldn't be able to fit the symbols inside the circle. Unless this thing was the size of Garreg Mach, an unlimited distance is a pipe dream."

"That implies a single trip." Well… that was obvious. After all, that was what teleportation _was_ , right? Taking something and moving it elsewhere in the span of a second. It wasn't as if you had to send something to a random additional point just to reach the intended destination. Lysithea's confusion must've made its way onto her face, for Byleth gave a small shake of his head before continuing. "When being transported by Warp magic, what do you see?"

"Um… a dark flash or something? I'm guessing that's the magic at work."

"Incorrect. That darkness is not magic. It is _nothing_." Byleth's statement got the reaction it rightfully deserved – nothing more than a confused noise from his student. "According to Fort, the Warp spell does not directly move the subject from one place to another. The Warp spell contains no components designed to make the subject intangible. This would imply that the subject would be physically moved at high speeds between each point. Not only would this result in visible movement, but the intense speed would also cause injury and whiplash. However, the spell contains the expected transportation elements. Therefore, the Warp spell must transport the subject _somewhere_. A location that can be moved to and from instantly without injury. A location beyond space and time."

"Beyond space and time?" Lysithea couldn't help but parrot, unaware of how her head tilted in thought. Though there were rumours and legends of spells capable of manipulating time and space, they were that – fabrications and hearsay. If the fact that one of the most common spells could do so became common knowledge, the academic community would be sent into a frenzy. "How can you be sure about something like that? It doesn't exactly sound easy to test."

"That is where the device came into play." The professor continued to explain. If he was bothered by the interruption, it didn't show on his face. Byleth's eyes were too busy gazing towards the faded pages before him, an unreadable distance held within. "Question: What is the purpose of linking two warp circles?"

"To conserve energy. Whereas humans naturally accumulate energy within their bodies, non-sentient substances cannot." It was one of the very first things people were taught when it came to magic. If Lysithea couldn't answer that much, she wouldn't have been able to show her face in class. When you were discussing phenomena that seemed to go against common knowledge however, you could never be too certain. Such was the reason Lysithea's statement held the slightest questioning tone. "Warp circles placed on surfaces require adjustments to their structure to absorb and contain the power necessary for them to function. By having two circles linked, they can share their energy pool while having double the absorption rate."

"Correct. Even then, charging requires time. If this timeless space existed, however, it would not matter. Fort made a device that would accumulate only enough charge to enter this space. Once there, it would charge up the adequate amount to travel to the intended destination. If his theory was correct, it would be able to do so in what appeared to be no time. An additional spell was included to record the time taken." Byleth's comments were followed by the man twisting his hand towards his student, a barely visible image printed upon the page. Scrubbed away by the annuls of history, all that remained was a vaguely cuboid shape. Any chance of replicating the magic used was long erased. "It succeeded. In less than a second, the device appeared far longer than the estimated maximum distance. The time recorded was five minutes. When transporting a rock, six minutes. When transporting a rabbit, eight. He had proved the existence of a dimension beyond time visited during a warp."

"…Professor, I don't like where this is going." Lysithea muttered, her previously lax form rapidly straightening out. She wasn't considered one of the smartest in her year for nothing. "Those results sound too good to be true. This was a discovery that got buried, a man whose name was forgotten by history. If he managed to prove something of this scale, why is the first time I'm hearing of him coming from a book like _this_? This Fort guy should be lauded by the top researchers."

There were very few occasions where Lysithea got to see Byleth hesitate. With so much skill under his belt and a complete disregard for any type of social norm, little could disturb the mercenary. After having seen Byleth cut down countless bandits with the ease of breathing, witnessing him pause at a story of all things was a novel concept. Regardless, that was what happened, the man's eyes flickering between Lysithea and the book with all the nerves of a child caught doing red-handed. It would take several seconds before the man mustered the strength to respond.

"What happens next is not pleasant. Do you wish to hear?" while the question may have been asked in all seriousness, Lysithea couldn't help the scoff that passed her lips.

"Professor, you've killed several monsters and people in front of us. We've watched things I'm pretty sure some people couldn't dream of." Came the dry response, a wry smile on the girl's face. That she had seen far more horrible things as a child was better left unspoken. "Please, continue. I can handle the mention of a corpse or something."

"…If you are certain." Was that reluctance she was hearing? From Byleth 'Ashen Demon' Eisner? Why, Lysithea never thought she would see the day. "Fort's hubris became his downfall. He did not test one human. He wanted to transport several at once. He did not choose a short distance. He wanted to warp them across the entire continent. Fort had gathered crowds. The device had been charged. People of every kind were gathered to be warped. It was described as a holiday opportunity and a chance to be part of a historic moment. The participants happily agreed. That was when everything went wrong."

* * *

_For us, it was a matter of seconds. They disappeared with smiles on their faces and returned within a blink of an eye. Little did I realise the millennia of horrors I subjected those poor people to. I underestimated how long they would be trapped in that realm unbound by the laws of reality. When I finally managed to muster the courage to wipe down that blood covered machine and check the spell, what bile remained in my stomach came forth._

_For the device to transport so many so far, it had charged for over two thousand years._

_There had been only one demented soul unmutilated enough to speak. Even then, their mangled vocal cords had only been able to convey so much. Whether they were male or female, child or adult, even whether they were one or several fused, we could not tell. That they were even alive as that pulsating mass of broken limbs and melted flesh was traumatising enough. None of us cared to ask as they spoke._

_The participants had been able to stave themselves at first. I had made sure to warn them of a several minute delay before their arrival, which would translate into seconds. Even when the timer had read days, they had believed either rescue would come or the machine would return them. Stuck in a realm where they were unaffected by hunger, thirst or any other biological function, all they had to do was wait._

_As days turned into weeks, however, time consumed their sanity. Trapped in a void with nothing to do, it was only natural for the mentally weak to break. The first attempted to commit suicide, slicing his wrists with a dagger taken in his luggage. To the collective horror of all present though, the man didn't die. No matter how he hacked at his flesh, he continued to live. Even when his hands were hanging by the smallest amount of skin, the man didn't bleed out. Not even tearing his throat had been enough to grant him death._

_Faced with such a traumatic sight, many others soon fell into the same state. Tearing themselves apart for any sort of release, only to remain alive. Engaging into wanton lust regardless of age or consent. Brawling over what few provisions people had brought along. It didn't take long before the insane began ravaging other people's bodies, desperately searching for any kind of stimulation in an empty world. Some tried to flee in terror. Others actively welcomed it. Without death, receiving and dealing pain became the only way to pass the days._

_It took less than three months for the last of the participants to lose their humanity. After spending so long in an atmosphere drenched in blood and sin, they could no longer be called human. They had long since become brutalised corpses, yet they somehow continued to breathe, to move, to wallow in endless isolation. Though their forms may no longer have resembled what they were before, their broken minds continued with whatever reckless attempts to distract themselves from their own insanity. Some tried to have sex with destroyed genitals, uncaring for who their partner was. Others, having consumed the last remnants of food and drink ages ago, chewed upon decimated flesh._

_After those horrific two thousand years however, my machine finally managed to accumulate the charge it required. The unfortunate trapped souls were wrenched from their hellish landscape and brought back into our reality, with all of the natural laws that it came with. The grass was drowned in a wave of blood, every last drop wrung out of their tortured bodies. A woman screamed as a head rolled towards her feet, a dislocated mouth filled with an unspeakable fluid. The sight could be described as nothing more than a mountain of meat and bone, soon drenched in the vomit of those present._

_Despite that, it was not the sight that would haunt me the most. No, the honour belongs to what few heads remained connected to bodies, only majorly damaged rather than complete destroyed. Rather than abstract terror or insanity as one might expect… there had been smiles on their faces. In the few moments their brains continued to function when they returned, they had smiled. My experiment not only drove decent men, women and children to turn themselves into… those things, it had even caused death to bring them bliss._

_It is with those images burned into my mind that I declare this. My technology must never be used upon a human ever again. Let my work die alongside these unfortunate souls, alongside me when the public inevitably seeks my head for those deaths. Mortals were never intended to mess with forces beyond their comprehension. However tempting the door to another realm may be, attempting to open it will only invite havoc upon our fragile existences._

_May the key forever be lost._

* * *

Byleth had been prepared, already moving the bucket before Lysithea just as she began to wretch. That there was a witness unaffected enough to accurately recreate the gory scene upon the pages was almost as unbelievable as the event itself. Stoic as he attempted to present himself, even Byleth was not immune to the disgusting sight.

"I-I… apologies, Professor…" Lysithea eventually managed to speak when no more would leave her stomach, accepting the offered glass with trembling hands. "I n-never should've a-asked…"

"However gruesome it may be, history cannot be changed." Came Byleth gentle answer. In any other situation, he may have said more, perhaps given some sort of motivating speech. He had done so with every mercenary who joined after him, all bright-eyed until they witnessed a massacre. "…The rain is heavy. Do you wish to stay the night?"

"If… If that's o-okay with you Professor…"

If anyone had come across them that night, they would've immediately denounced Byleth and Lysithea sharing a bed as scandalous. Met with the tales held within that book and its kin though, it was the only way the two of them could comfortably sleep.


	18. Phantom Pains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While on the hunt for a prestigious songstress, Byleth finally finds himself utilising his divine powers to save himself rather than others. During the unorthodox experience, an unexpected ailment manages to catch the professor's attention.

In hindsight, perhaps the first time Byleth died should have instilled a bit more terror in him. It had certainly tried its hardest, what with the excruciating pain of a time-worn axe digging through his flesh and the sting of rain entering the wound. Despite that, however, it was somehow not fear that had wormed its way into Byleth's heart. No, far from it; he had the Golden Deer to thank for that.

Well, maybe not all of them – though it was admittedly through no fault of their own. While the war that had been birthed in Byleth's absence was by no means clean, the Golden Deer were situated far from the worst chaos. With their professor's teachings in mind, few if any of them had ever fallen into dire straits. Even then, what few injuries they _did_ manage to accrue were nothing in the face of Marianne's tender care. That wasn't to say that their eyes had not become accustomed to the sight of the fallen – their initial attempts at rescue operations made short work of that – but there was something… alienating about witnessing the death of a man from the other side of the continent.

To see Byleth struck down, however, elicited far more erratic reactions from his students. Those who had not frozen out of disbelief were of two minds – keeping Byleth alive or utterly eviscerating the one responsible for his pain. Distracted as he was, Byleth couldn't quite make out the extent to which the Golden Deer vented their anger on his assailant, yet he had already passed the stage where he cared. How was he to remember them, after all, when the actions of those who were at his side were far more deserving of being seared into his mind?

It had first been Claude that filled his vision. Byleth assumed it was because Hilda and Raphael's preference for getting close and personal made aiming arrows rather difficult, but Claude could be surprisingly sensitive at times. It would not have been a surprise had Claude simply allowed his emotions to sway his actions. Armed with the skillset that he had, however, there was woefully little Claude could have done to change Byleth's fate. Such was why he quickly gave way to those who were approaching from the rear lines.

Marianne didn't speak. She never really was one for words – one of Byleth's kin in that regard, his pain-addled mind had mused. The only sound that had passed her lips during that time was her growing pants as her magical energy reserves depleted by the second. What had stuck with Byleth though was not that, but the gaze she had fixated upon him. Rather, it was the resolution that had blended into it, a resolution that gradually began to ebb alongside her magical energy. Rare were the occasions where Marianne could steel her heart in such a way; rarer still were those where that proved insufficient.

As for Lysithea… her healing power was easily dwarfed by Marianne, but she did not hesitate to pour all that she had into what few healing spells she knew. With the amount of power that coursed through that fragile body of hers, that was no small amount. Even so, all spells had limits to their capabilities. Trying to restore a butchered heart, lungs and who knew what else? That was beyond even the greatest known healers of Fodlan. Faced with Marianne's failures, that answer should have been obvious. Regardless, it took until Lysithea was squeezing out her final drops of magical energy before she allowed her frustrations to show.

"Is this really how you're going to go? Done in by some random kidnapper?" Lysithea had muttered, careful to turn her face away. Byleth still wasn't quite sure why she had done that. Compared to the rain pouring onto him, a few more tears landing in his chest were hardly going to make a difference. "The mighty Byleth Eisner, the Ashen Wolf whose mercenaries know no defeat? You must be joking."

"… **emo…b…k…it…"**

"Those words…" Byleth knew how quickly his life was fading. If he did not turn back the sands of time, he would have truly been lost to the Heavens. Even so, he couldn't help but stretch a powerless hand to the sky, Lysithea's trembling growing as what Byleth hoped were tears were wiped away. "Save them for… the day I die…"

"Professor? Professor!"

In that timeline, such was the end of Byleth Eisner. While those under his command were undoubtedly weakened by his loss, they would go on in his name to reunite Fodlan and the lands beyond their borders regardless. Though tears may have fallen from their eyes at first, the movement of time could not be stopped; as the years soothed the pain in their hearts, all memories of Byleth Eisner were relegated to the history books. Only one continued to dress in black until their own dying days.

Not that any of it mattered, Byleth watching as a purple power dyed the world around him, his chest no longer pained by its partial destruction. It was a lost future now. No remnant of it would remain beyond that which resided in Byleth's mind. All it would take was a single thought before it was erased beyond recovery.

Perhaps that was why Byleth hesitated in fully reversing the events that had occurred. Frozen in time, his body was locked into gazing up at that pained expression of Lysithea's. Their proximity meant Byleth could see full well how the discontent in her mind pulled her mentality taut, stretching it to its limits. Trapped as he was, however, there was little he could do about it. Unable to act, Byleth was left to ponder what would happen should that frail mentality snap at any moment. If this was how Lysithea acted while still restrained, Byleth's body trembled at the thought of what foul fate would befall any who drew Lysithea's ire then.

Such was how Byleth first came across the sensation that evaded description, marring his thoughts. A dull aching in Byleth's chest that earned neither irritation nor pain. It was no side effect of his recent injuries – considering how the powers granted unto him by the Goddess functioned, _that_ was impossible – yet Byleth struggled to discern any other cause. His mind attempted to ground itself with several possibilities – a phantom pain, maybe hypersensitive nerves – but a part of him already recognised that they were unlikely at best.

A moment passed where Byleth lamented that he couldn't just ask the practised healer sitting right next to him, only to reign such thoughts back. Knowing Marianne, she would probably say such diagnoses were beyond her ability and then apologise profusely for the following hour.

Regardless of the origins of his issues though, there was one thing that Byleth knew for certain. Whenever his eyes fell upon Lysithea, the pain pulsed with a renewed energy. With how limited his field of vision was seeing as Byleth couldn't move his head, it wasn't exactly a well-evidenced hypothesis, but Byleth had little reason to discount it. The question then was just exactly _why_.

There was nothing particularly special about her – at least, nothing regarding anything that could affect him. She had an incredible affinity for magic, but that held no external influence outside of spells and Lysithea was clearly too focused on healing to cast anything else. The two crests she bore was much the same, only increasing either the physical or magical strength of the wielder. As for anything that would require prior preparation? Well, Byleth was no slouch when it came to his personal safety. If Lysithea had the gall to place some sort of enchantment on him, then Byleth would've rooted it out in no time.

In the end, all Byleth could do was accept it as a fact and move on. That didn't stop him from lingering just a moment longer though, one final attempt to ascertain the truth of his affliction through Lysithea's sorrow before the world surrounding bent to his will.

Byleth watched as the passage of time unwound itself, his chest forming once more until nary a blemish remained. Corpses once forgotten stood to attention once more, weapons branded with impassioned fear as their wielders reversed their charges. The spells that had brought their end materialised from their bodies, flying back to their casters to be absorbed into their hands. It was undoubtedly a novel sight, one that any regular man would marvel. Even with his muted personality, the tiniest part of Byleth was of the same mind.

Little did he realise then how mundane a view it would eventually become.

* * *

"Unhand her! You must not taint her!" the claw that had once been pierced Byleth's spine now found itself flying off a bloody hand, Byleth's assailant letting out a hideous growl akin to the creaking of the gallows chain upon their ears. A distorted noise halfway between conversation and song, each word brought a sickening sensation to the stomachs of those unfortunate enough to hear it. No human should be capable of such a tone – of that much, Byleth was certain. "None shall claim that voice but me!"

"Okay, I'm sick of listening to this guy."

Without the professor being caught unaware, nothing was stopping the Golden Deer's plans from proceeding. If there was one thing Byleth never assumed he would be thankful for, a swarm of insects converging on his position was surely that. When his assailant let out a mortifying cry as they rushed to consume his flesh, however, Byleth couldn't help the dismissive sound that passed his lips. Without the safety of an ambush, it was obvious who was going to win the following bout.

Even so, Byleth had to admit that proving victorious wasn't quite as easy as one might expect. To call the kidnapper's frantic swings a fighting style wouldn't entirely be correct, yet it was effective, nonetheless. Though his skin may have been pocked with bite marks, it didn't take long before a series of bisected insect corpses were falling to the floor, dissolving into the magic from whence they came. That alone was admirable enough, but when his hunched form then began to levitate as well, Byleth had to begrudgingly give his respect. There weren't many mages who were capable of the same.

"Time for you to calm down." Lysithea remarked as she emerged from the shadows, a click of her finger bringing forth a torrent of flame before Byleth.

Her timing could not have been better, for with the speed that the kidnapper launched forward, even a second later would've had those rusted claws buried within Byleth's chest. Instead, Byleth remained unflinching as the claws came just centimetres away from him, the kidnapper screaming as the fire superheated his mask. Recoiling back, a scream not dissimilar to a broken organ filled the air as he tore at his face, the remains of his incinerated sleeves falling to the ground as he did so.

"So, this is the guy you were talking about Professor?" Leonie spoke over her shoulder as she approached, her arrow never moving from a perfect trajectory to pierce the kidnapper's eyes. Byleth didn't need to turn to know that Claude and Ignatz were similarly prepared.

"Indeed." Those clothes, worn and withered as they were, could not be mistaken. The suits preferred by Mach's higher class had always stood out compared to the fashion of other locations, most likely due to the number of tailors that had gathered in the region. Pair that with his mutilations and blatant obsession with the voice of the broken girl behind them, and it wasn't difficult to decipher her captor's identity. "The man who should've died in the Leroux Playhouse Tragedy. How did you survive, Erik Leroux?"

"Don't speak that name!" came the answer, an agonised screech that threatened to rupture the ears of all present. Dangling in the air like a man hanged, clawing at his face uncaring for the blood that leaked out, it was the very sight of insanity. "How did you enter this place? This seat for sweet music, none should know of its splendour but I!"

"Wait, are we talking about those noise suppression seals you have scattered all over the place?" Lysithea happily interrupted, giving a yawn as she smacked her hand against the wall. In any other scenario, such a gesture would be dismissed as something trivial. For Eric, when said smack ended up illuminating an intrinsic circle with a violet glow for a second before shattering it effortlessly, it was no less painful than Lysithea's prior spells. "Did you think these would stop us? I mean, credit to you, they seem to be pretty well made. The problem is that seals like this weren't made to be discrete or permanent; they were made to be quickly erected for private conversations and meetings. Breaking them down is a cakewalk."

And how thankful Byleth was for that. Had Eric chosen a less visible form of enchantment, the labyrinthian layout of Abyss meant they could've been searching for far longer than Eric's hostage could've held out for. Even with the assistance of the Ashen Wolves, Abyss' ideology of 'no questions asked' meant the task of blindly searching was a gargantuan one. Thanks to Eric's blunder, however, the more magically attuned of the Golden Deer had required barely any time at all before they chanced upon one of his noise suppression seals. Once one was broken, all they had to do was follow the hideous sounds.

A primal scream was followed by Eric shooting forward, a mad expression splattered across his face as he attempted to tear Lysithea to pieces. All that managed to earn him was the Sword of the Creator biting into his flesh, Lysithea's face dotted with Eric's blood as the man was sent hurtling backwards. If the sizeable wound across his chest wasn't enough to send the kidnapper into immense pain, then his harsh impact against a waiting stone pillar certainly sent him over the edge.

"You didn't answer my question," Byleth muttered, a quick flick of his blade removing any taint upon its edge. "You should have burned to death. The fire on stage took the lives of all upon it. That should have included you."

If there had been a survivor, it would've been impossible for them to remain silent. After all, the events of that tragic night had been burned – quite literally in some cases – into the minds of all who attended. When that poor dancer's skirt caught aflame due to the stage lights, her manic attempts at extinguishing it had resulted in a catastrophic knock-on effect. Perhaps some could have been saved had there been a well-equipped mage on hand, but who on earth brought a tome into a playhouse? No, the fleeing audience knew full well how little chance of surviving those on-stage had as they watched the Leroux Playhouse be consumed by the raging fire.

Considering that Eric had been playing the lead role that night, that should have included him.

"Do you think I'll die before my music can change the world!?" Eric spat back, his eyes flickering with a spark of unholy magic. An already hunched and malformed body curled tighter still, the mask once perfectly fitted to his face falling to reveal a sight that words could do justice to.

The only thing that prevented Eric from deteriorating into a mindless beast was the resting body behind his angel of music had been torn from him, Eric could still feel her presence on him. The scent that belonged only to her, plastered all across his being, it challenged his sanity with each passing moment. It was a reminder to Eric that his angel could be seen by him alone, belong to him alone. To allow any other to lay hands upon his angel was a heresy that could not be tolerated. Such was how he mustered the strength to speak once more.

"Think? Why ponder a foregone conclusion?"

Having the strength to speak, however, meant rather little when there was a glowing lance of light where your throat should be. With the searing power behind the spell, not a single drop of blood fell as Eric collapsed to the ground, Lorenz's face unmoved by the twitches of a soon-to-be corpse. Why should it be? Compared to the more brutal damage the Sagittae spell could cause, it was hardly a scratch.

"Forgive us if we do not indulge this little power fantasy of yours," Lorenz muttered, dusting off a spotless shoulder. It was only the solemnity of their situation that prevented the other Golden Deer from rolling their eyes at such a pretentious act. "A man such as yourself is better off in the annuls of history. Professor, I assume this means we've completed our tasks here?"

"So it seems. How's the hostage?" Byleth answered, Marianne's diligent work upon a young woman's ravaged vocal cords delaying her answer.

"Miss Webber won't be able to speak for some time, but her injuries otherwise are light. That Eric seemed intent on keeping her intact." She said, running a finger across swollen lips. With a small amount of healing magic imbued into them, they were returned to their original luscious form in no time at all. "I suppose in that respect, we are fortunate. Any longer and I fear her voice would have reached the point of no return."

"Good. Then we shall return."

Byleth's statement easily spurred his students to action, those with mounts left to deliberate who would be responsible for transporting their new charge. Taking a quick patrol to ensure there were no traps left behind in Eric's wake, Byleth was forced to play catch up behind them, a cry from up front causing his head to rise.

"Come on, Professor! You said that you'd teach us some more of that Morfis-style magic!" Lysithea called over her shoulder, Byleth momentarily stunned before he gave a slight nod.

Even without a wound in sight, a dull ache in Byleth's chest throbbed.


End file.
